


Vengeance

by MiladyDragon



Series: Dragon-Verse: Future Adventures [18]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Doctor Who (2005), Forever (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Merlin (TV), The Unusuals, Torchwood
Genre: Dark Magic, Dragons, Future Fic, Grief/Mourning, Hydra, Magic, Multi, Politics, Polyamory, Reincarnation, Terrorism, vengeance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-02-10 23:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 65
Words: 189,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12922812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiladyDragon/pseuds/MiladyDragon
Summary: The Jones Clan's war against a resurgent HYDRA continues.Evidence found may offer a clue...or be a trap for Ianto just waiting to be sprung.  Phillip is called to Throneworld to answer charges against him and his possible unfitness to run Torchwood.  Jack goes to Trafusis...and find a couple of things he didn't expect.  Two Lunar cops find themselves in far too deep.And, somewhere in the shadows, is the person behind it all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! The sequel to "Resurgence". It is officially the longest thing I've ever written. I'll be using the same posting schedule, Tuesdays and Thursdays, unless something comes up. 
> 
> Also, a little note on this first chapter - Armstrong Dome was set up by the Americans, so their law enforcement is set up more along the lines of what is in the US. The Second Precinct is also based on the same precinct in the short-lived television show, "The Unusuals", which I've added to the fandom tags. The show stars Amber Tamblyn and Jeremy Renner, and if you ever get the chance you should totally watch it. 
> 
> Now, on with the story!

 

**_30 January 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Armstrong Dome_ **

**_The Moon_ **

****

The Second Precinct was made up of a bunch of misfits who didn’t quite fit in with the rest of the police force currently assigned to Earth’s Lunar Dome complex.  That didn’t make them bad cops; in fact, their solve record was one of the best on the Moon. 

The Second was the one that handled the weird shit.  Strange little crimes, like that one family who wanted to be a criminal conglomerate but who’d managed to fail at everything they’d tried, including the time one of the younger members had attempted to steal a lollipop from a little kid and got a concussion when he’d stumbled over the wheels of the pram the child had been in.  Or the Otirian who’d started breaking every timepiece they could find because they believed they were a secret Time Lord and that their Time Lord essence had been hidden in one and they’d misplaced it somewhere, and this was the only way they’d ever become their normal self again. 

Okay, so that one hadn’t been as far-fetched as it sounded; Time Lords _did_ apparently do that sort of thing, but the Otirian wasn’t one of them.  There was still only one official Time Lord left in the Universe, thank you very much.

So, when Luna University Security called in an attempted murder of a respected member of staff, it really should have gone to one of the larger precincts, who would have been better able to deal with the politics involved.

Instead, it had come to the Second, just because they were the closest to the main Luna University dome and could get someone there quickly.

It had ended up being assigned to Jason Walsh and Casey Shraeger as the next detectives in the rotation.  And because their sergeant felt they had the most tact of anyone else in the squad room, since no one wanted to see Eddie Alvarez deal with authority as he had a tendency to cave and then start to suck up in the most embarrassing ways possible.

Of course, Casey considered, this case _had_ turned out to be a bit weirder than most, which was par for the course for her and her partner.

For one thing, the respected member of staff had ended up being Professor Rowena ap Llyn, Chair of History, who just happened to be a Star Dragon.

Whose mate was Henry Morgan, Professor of Ancient Languages, and one of the two acknowledged true immortals in known existence.

 _And_ whose parents were Director Jack Harkness, the _other_ acknowledged immortal, and Second Ianto Jones, the Dragon of Torchwood and Patriarch of the aforementioned Star Dragons.

Yeah, weird.  And potentially a political time bomb waiting to blow up in their faces.

Although, she _did_ get to see a real Star Dragon out of it.  _That_ had been impressive, even if that Star Dragon had been badly injured in the attack.  So, while that would have been _something_ to tell the proverbial grandchildren in any other circumstances…it just wasn’t in these particular ones. 

But at least Casey could get autographs under the excuse of needing paperwork signed. 

So, sue her… she was a fangirl.

When she and Walsh had shown up at Hospitaler Tower to do the preliminary interviews, it had been a shock to discover just who their victim was.  Still, they’d been professional…so much so that they’d apparently impressed Director Harkness enough that he’d personally called their sergeant and requested that they be kept on the case despite the fact that both she and Walsh had immediately assumed that Torchwood would be taking over.

That didn’t turn out to be what happened _at all_.

To be honest, Casey had been intrigued with the man.  Jack Harkness was handsome, and charming, even though he’d been scared out of his mind about his daughter having been stabbed and his grandson being the one to walk in on the attack.  It took a special sort of person to remain charming under those conditions.

He’d also informed them that this wasn’t Torchwood business, and proceeded to tell them that he suspected the person who’d attacked Professor ap Llyn had been responsible for the death of another daughter of his, named Sabrina.  That his clan had declared war on whoever had done it, and that was why Torchwood wasn’t involved.

Casey had thought she’d heard somewhere that the Star Dragons were their own, designated race within the Empire, so them going to war against someone who’d targeted their family was perfectly legal.

So far, though, they didn’t have much to go on.

The son, Abraham Morgan-Jones, had managed to give an artist a fairly decent description of the man he’d seen in the house, as had both Professors ap Llyn and Morgan…when Professor Morgan had come back from wherever he’d resurrected to.  Which, yeah…he apparently had to come back to life in the nearest body of water, and since there wasn’t such a thing on the Moon he’d done it on Earth, smack dab in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

Well, maybe not the exact middle, that was just a figure of speech.  It had actually been somewhere in the Southern Hemisphere a couple of hundred miles off the coast of Australia.

Once again…weird.  Maybe this case _did_ belong with the Second.

Still, it was enough to get a likeness out to all the other Lunar precincts and to ImpSec, and hopefully someone would notice the guy and call the authorities.

They’d also been able to add to that the possibility of the killer having been injured when young Abraham had flamed him.  That had had them putting out an alert to all hospitals and urgent care facilities for people who’d sought treatment for a severe burn somewhere on their body.

Casey had seen the inside of that bedroom, and that kid had done a number on the furnishings, so she could imagine what sort of shape the would-be killer was in.

Forensics had been all over the house, looking for any sort of evidence that would narrow down their search, and she and her partner were currently going through what the techs had brought back…which wasn’t much, to be honest.

The Evidence Room of the precinct building wasn’t Casey’s favourite place to be.  It was dull, drab, and crammed full of evidence bags and boxes that would stay there until their cases had been solved and the alleged perpetrators were convicted and sent on to whatever punishment the courts had seen fit to enforce…however long that happened to take.  The light in the ceiling flickered slightly as she and Walsh stood at the long examination table that took up about a third of the room, the contents of several containers spread out so they could go through it themselves.  It wasn’t that they didn’t trust Forensics…okay, maybe they didn’t trust Forensics.  Most of the time the techs would just catalogue the evidence without any sort of context, and it was up to the detectives to do that.

“Have you ever got the feeling that the forensics crew collect all this stuff just to irritate us?” Walsh groused as he poked around a bunch of charred pillows with a stylus, to avoid actually touching the mess.  Even though he was wearing gloves.  There were tons of the things and they all smelled of smoke and sogginess.

“I guess dragons like to sleep on lots of pillows and cushions,” Casey commiserated.  She’d taken the boxes of sodden quilts.  “At least we didn’t have to go through the hoard they found in the basement.”

“Please tell me they secured it.”

“According to the notes,” Casey used her own stylus to call up the report on her tablet, “it’s been secured with a crime scene lock.”  Those things were supposed to be unbreakable, but Casey had been a cop long enough to know that anything electronic could be hacked with the right equipment and a damned good motive.

“Well, at least we know this wasn’t a robbery.”  Walsh made a face as he stuffed pillows back into the evidence boxes they’d been stored in. 

“Yeah, the techs on scene claimed the hoard was pretty impressive.”

“That would be just one more thing we’d need: someone getting their hands on that sort of shit.”

“If they didn’t want to risk pissing off a dragon that’s already been stabbed.”

“Point.”

Casey was glad she was wearing gloves, because these quilts were just plain nasty.  She was really surprised the entire house hadn’t burnt down.  From the report, the flame set loose had been impressive and had burned a lot hotter than a normal fire.

She had to admit she was proud of the kid for managing to get some sort of licks in.  Although it had destroyed most of the crime scene.

“What’s this?”

She glanced up from where she’d been poking through the stinking pile of cloth, to see her partner holding a small, sealed evidence bag between his fingers.

Within the bag was what looked like a ring.

Walsh was holding the bag up close to his face, the better to see it.  “Looks old.  Silver, maybe?”  He moved the bag around a bit.  “There’s some sort of symbol on it.”  He handed it over to her.

Casey took her own look at the thing.  She thought Walsh might have been right about the material; it definitely looked like solid silver, somewhat slagged on one side from the heat of the dragon’s fire.  She felt herself going cross-eyed as she also held the bag up, the better to get a look at what was carved into the ring’s flat surface. 

She squinted.  “Is it some sort of animal?”

“Think it’s a horse.”

Yeah, she could see it now, although the design was pretty primitive. 

“They didn’t get this from the hoard, did they?”

This time, it was Walsh who consulted his own personal computer.  “Nope.  Says it was found in the bedroom, and it certainly looks like it was exposed to tremendous heat.”

“Maybe it belongs to Professor Morgan.”  It was obviously a man’s ring, just from judging from the size and bulk of it.  “It was in the bedroom, after all.”

“Or our killer lost it.”

Walsh could sometimes leap to conclusions that Casey didn’t see, but this time she was inclined to agree that it was possible.  “We could ask either professor about it.”

“The family was moving Professor ap Llyn back to Earth today,” Walsh answered.  “It’s late; I doubt we’ll still catch them at Hospitaler Tower.”

Casey nodded.  They’d been told that the professor would be moved as soon as she was cleared to, because the fathers trusted security at home more than they did at the Tower.  Not that she didn’t blame them.  After all, their killer had ambushed the professors in their own home. 

They’d been provided with personal comm codes and transmat coordinates for Director Harkness’ home, though, so they would still have access to the witnesses. Casey was positive it was also for them to keep the man updated on their progress.

“Why don’t we run it through the system,” she suggested, “and if we don’t come up with anything we can ask about it.”

“Good idea,” Walsh agreed.  He set the ring aside.  “The rest of this is trash.”  He took a step back from the table, and Casey could tell he wanted to put his hands on his hips but had just avoided from doing it and getting black smears on his suit trousers. 

She had to agree, but kept on poking her pile out of habit.  “The tech guys also say that the perpetrator obviously teleported from the scene, from readings they got when they scanned the room, although there’s no way to pinpoint whether it was magical or technological.”  They’d come a long way with magical forensics, but there were still things that eluded them.

“Makes sense, from the eyewitness statement.”  He began to clear away the ruined pillows.  “I do get the feeling that Director Harkness hasn’t said everything about what’s going on.”

“Well, yeah.”  That really hasn’t needed to be said.  “Torchwood might not be directly involved, but he did request us to send in a copy of our findings to the Institute.”  As well as the Grand Master of the Imperial Shieldsmen, and to the Adjudicators.  Sure, they were perfectly willing to do it, but if this had been a private, Star Dragon, matter, then all these reports wouldn’t be going out all over the place.  The only agency they weren’t requested to send on was to ImpSec, but then Casey supposed the Shieldsmen would most likely forward that sort of thing on anyway.

There had to be something else going on.  Well, it wasn’t in their job descriptions, although looking at her partner’s face Casey could tell he was just as curious as she was.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

**_1 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Gliese 581g_ **

**_Hubworld_ **

****

Phillip stood outside the lab, watching as his impromptu gang of ancient weapons experts were huddling around the table where the Dragon Slayer’s knife lay, the thing looking innocuous under the brightness of the overhead lighting.

It was an eclectic group that had gathered together in order to study that blade.  Merlin, of course, because of the magic involved.  Fitz and Simmons, naturally, even though it wasn’t necessarily Jemma’s specialty but where Fitz went, she followed.  Owen was heatedly discussing something with Merlin, wizard and magical theorist obviously not agreeing about whatever it was.  Suzie, their quantum physicist, was speaking with Arthur, who hadn’t yet ceased to look bemused about being included in their group while Diane, Suzie’s wife, looked on indulgently. 

It was a motley team, but Phillip had faith in them to figure it out.

He, himself, wasn’t of any use, so he contented himself to watching, keeping out of the way.  While he did that, he cradled his little girl, Daisy, in his arms as she watched them in the lab with an avidness that was far too cute, just enjoying holding her for a while in a little bit of calmness before the next crisis.

He was absolutely certain there’d be a next crisis. 

It was only a matter of time.

The one thing that surprised him was that the Doctor wasn’t in the lab, getting his own opinions in.  The last Phillip had seen of him, the Time Lord had been heading to the TARDIS, although he wouldn’t say why.  It was a few minutes later that River followed, and he doubted the Doctor would be brooding for long.

Something was up with the Doctor.  It was pretty obvious.  Phillip wanted to offer his help, but he thought he knew the Doctor well enough by now that he wouldn’t accept it.  He was becoming genuinely concerned, as he considered the Doctor a friend…which was a pleasant surprise in and of itself.  He’d heard the stories and read the reports, and had been certain he wouldn’t much care for the Time Lord, but this present incarnation had been a revelation. 

Daisy gave a happy gurgle, and Phillip smiled down at her.  She was such a beautiful little dragon, mostly purple like her other father, but with white accents on her scales, wing vanes and claws, and brilliant blue eyes that looked at him with such innocent trust it took his breath away.  Yes, he and Clint had raised Skylar, but he knew he’d never get used to having something so small and helpless rely on him the way a baby did. 

It wouldn’t be too much longer before Clint would be giving their little girl her first flying lesson.  Dragons could fly short distances by their first six months, and then they’d have to child-proof the house all over again.  Phillip still remembered the day that Skylar had flown up to the top of one of the bookshelves in his home office and had refused to come down.  It had nearly given Phillip a heart attack, and he’d ended up panicking and calling Ianto for advice.  The elder dragon had simply laughed and said that Skylar would come down when he got hungry, and that it was only natural for little dragons to seek out the highest perches. 

Ianto had been right, naturally, and Skylar had practically launched himself into Clint’s arms when dinnertime had rolled around.  From that moment on, Phillip hadn’t worried when Skylar had nested up high.

Daisy would most likely be the same way, and this time Phillip found himself looking forward to it.

“Da!” she warbled, twisting around in his arms and climbing him like he was a tree, eventually curling about his shoulders like she was some sort of fancy, living scarf.  Her tiny face rubbed up against his in the dragon form of a kiss, and if he didn’t already adore her this would have tipped him right over the edge into eternal devotion.

Dragons also started speaking much sooner than human babies did, but this was the first time she’d ever come close to calling him Dad, and judging from Skylar’s progress it was far too early.  Something to ask Ianto about later. “Yes, I’m Da,” he confirmed softly, surprised, rubbing his own cheek against hers.  “And your other Dad is going to be upset he wasn’t around to hear you say that.”

Clint was currently at Ddraig Llyn, getting Skylar settled.  Phillip was still so very angry that the self-styled Dragon Slayer had gone after his son, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it at the moment.  He was reliant on those people in the lab, but as soon as there was any sort of trail to follow he was going to do it.  No one hurt his son and got away with it.

A part of him felt guilty that he wasn’t with Clint and Skylar.  Phillip would be joining them soon; he’d just wanted to make certain that the knife had gotten to the ones who would be working to unravel its secrets.  He’d also made a comm call to Stark, the living computer of Stark’s World, to let him know what had happened on Avalon, as he’d promised he would, and the computer intelligence had offered whatever aid he could…in a _very_ distinctly Stark way. 

It was still a bit surreal, realising that the man he’d known – and had threatened to tase on several occasions – was a sentient computer greater than any AI that had ever been created, even though he’d known about it for a while now.  He was even greater than Cal, the human child who’d been uploaded into the Great Library’s Data Core.  And Stark had been around for millennia.  

He sighed, turning away from the scene in the lab, knowing that just standing there wasn’t going to get them to work any faster.  He was just glad they’d all agreed to help, since he was technically using Torchwood resources for a personal reason.  He’d taken leave because their hunt for HYDRA had moved beyond professional; the Star Dragons had declared war, and none of them wanted to drag Torchwood into things even more than it already was.  It was just asking for, at the very least, a verbal sanction against the Institute, and Phillip didn’t want to risk that.

Working on that knife _was_ personal.  It had been used to kill his sister-by-mating, to injure another sister, and his very own son.  That could not stand.

And Melinda was willing to look the other way, since she wanted HYDRA out of the picture almost as much as he did, and Sabrina _had_ also been an operative.

That wasn’t to say there wasn’t an official investigation.  HYDRA had done enough to draw attention to themselves, including an attempt to kidnap the Crown Prince.  But they were using official resources only on what affected _them_ , and not what had been done to Phillip’s family.  Yes, those strikes were also being checked into, but not to the extent that the Jones Clan needed them to be.  Sabrina’s death didn’t weigh _quite_ as much to Imperial forces as did Prince Joshua’s safety, which Phillip accepted.

He sighed.  “Why don’t you and I find your brother and sister and Aunt Lisa, and go home?  I bet your Dad and other brother would like to see us.”  He was tired, and he knew their scientists would make contact if and when they found something.

Daisy chittered at him, only one word in all the mess understandable, even though her pronunciation of ‘home’ was missing the ‘m’ sound.

Carefully, Phillip uncoiled her from around his shoulders.  He didn’t mind her clambering up there when he was standing still or sitting, but he didn’t want to risk her falling off as he was walking.  Daisy accepted it, curling her tiny claws around his forearm and settling down on her back, blue eyes glittering up at him as she giggled. 

His sweater was going to have so many pinholes in it from her talons, but Phillip didn’t care.  This wasn’t his best outfit, anyway.  After all, he was on leave, and could dress down if he wanted to.  Besides, he was enjoying the looks he received every time he walked the halls looking far from Director-y

He’d just began making his way up the corridor to the lift when a familiar shape came into view.

Commander Mar-Von had quickly become a trusted member of Security ever since he and a couple of his men had come to the Library, ostensibly to rescue him and the Doctor from HYDRA.  Mar-Von was Kree, the only one in Torchwood, and Phillip stopped to wait for him to approach.

“Director,” the commander greeted, bowing slightly.  “And Milady Daisy.” 

Daisy shifted just enough in Phillip’s arms to look over at the person who’d called her by name.  Her eyes widened slightly, and she began chattering at Mar-Von excitedly.

Mar-Von said, “And it’s a pleasure to see you as well, little one,” as if he could really understand what she was saying. 

Then he met Phillip’s eyes.  “Director, Second May has sent me to find you.  You have a communication coming in from Throneworld, from the Imperial Council.”

Phillip frowned, but not at Melinda asking Mar-Von to find him; he wasn’t there officially, and wasn’t wearing his comm.  As he’d taken personal leave, their liaison on the Council, Guinevere du Lac, wouldn’t be asking for him, so it had to be someone else, and the immortal had the sudden thought that this wasn’t good.

“Second May _did_ point out that you were on personal leave,” Mar-Von continued, answering his mental question.  “But they are being very insistent.”

He let out a growl that would have done his mate proud.  “Then I suppose I should speak to them.”

Mar-Von bowed slightly, acknowledging Phillip’s irritation.  “Second May did say you were currently out of the Tower.  I would assume this means you would be a little delayed in getting to your office…?”

That had Phillip barking a laugh.  “Yes, I do suppose you’re right, Commander.  Perhaps I have time to get a cup of coffee and perhaps a snack for Daisy…”

If they were so insistent on speaking with him, then they could bloody well wait until he was ready.

 

**********

 

By the time Phillip made it to his office, he’d had a coffee _and_ a sandwich, plus managed to feed Daisy, and felt that gave whoever the hell had summoned him a chance to cool their heels.  Or get royally pissed off.  Either one would work.

Melinda was leaning against the empty reception desk, looking vastly amused.  “How was your lunch?” she enquired pleasantly.  Reaching over, she stroked a finger down a now-sleepy Daisy’s jaw, and the little girl snuffled and rubbed against it, eyes half closed.  His Second looked completely and utterly charmed.  “I can watch Daisy while you’re in with your call.”

Phillip shook his head.  “They’re calling me while I’m on leave.  They get me and my baby.”

That earned him an amused snort.  “I did try to tell them you weren’t available.  It’s only their fault if they get an immature eavesdropper.”

“They give you any idea what they wanted?” he asked, juggling the baby dragon in order to open his office door. 

“No.  Just looked down their noses at me.”

“How many?”

“Two.  Councillors Xanthi and Redmond.”

Phillip grimaced.  Councillor Xanthi wasn’t one of his personal favourites, but then he’d had it out for Torchwood for years. Councillor Redmond he was never really sure of where the man stood. “Well, I’d better see what they want.”

“Do you want me to make up some sort of emergency after a set amount of time?”

He could tell Melinda was teasing, and probably knew just how much he wished he could take her up on the offer. “No, it’s best to get it over with.”

With those final words, Phillip entered his office, closing the door behind him, Melinda’s sympathetic face the last thing he saw.  She understood just how much he hated bureaucracy; it was the one thing he disliked most about his job, just after the sheer amount of paperwork he usually had to get through on a daily basis. 

He could never escape it though.  At least, he was away from Throneworld now for the most part, and didn’t have to put up with being in the same room with officials and would-be nobles.  He did miss the Royal Family, though; it seemed to him they were more down-to-Earth and real than the toadies that gravitated to their orbit.

Phillip activated the comm with a word, the viewscreen descending from the ceiling.  He didn’t bother to sit; instead, he perched on the edge of the desk, rocking Daisy gently as he waited for the connection to clear.

Councillor Xanthi do’Meshae was from Halistra; tall, thin, with greenish skin and ethereal features.  Long black hair ran from a crest across the head, and was twisted into an ornate queue that rested across one shoulder.  Grey eyes were narrowed in displeasure as he stared out of the viewscreen, and Phillip could swear the man was grinding his teeth.

Halistra had had a contentious relationship with Torchwood ever since the affair with their sister world, Andrala, over Rhys Williams.  They’d been on good terms until those events, and the sanctions that had been imposed upon Andrala over it, and to this day Phillip wasn’t certain why.  Andrala and Halistra hadn’t really gotten along before that.

Councillor Peyton Redmond was human from one of the colony worlds, a distinguished older gentleman, more like a grandfather figure than a power player in the Empire.  He didn’t appear to be angry; more disappointed than anything, and Phillip had the sudden urge to stick his tongue out childishly.

Not that he would; it would be beneath his dignity.  But he was certainly tempted.

“Gentlemen,” he greeted them politely, as if he hadn’t just kept them waiting for nearly forty-five minutes.  “I apologise, but as I’m certain Second May informed you, I’ve been out on leave.”

 _‘That’s what we’re calling to discuss,”_ Xanthi replied testily.  _“Did you have to bring the child?”_

Phillip shrugged.  “As I said…I’m on leave.  No babysitter.”

_“You couldn’t have left it with your mate?”_

“As you might not be aware,” the immortal answered, still keeping his voice and expression coldly polite, even though he was beginning to get angry now, “our son, Skylar, was attacked on New Wales.  Clint is staying with him while I’m here, speaking with you, and he couldn’t care for both Skylar and Daisy.  Now, if you’re finished with critiquing the appearance of myself _and_ my child, perhaps we can get to the reason for this call?”

He knew very well what he looked like to the pair of Councillors: dark blue sweater, with snags and pills from a certain baby dragon wanting to climb him at the drop of a hat; faded denims; and well-worn combat boots; a baby dragon curled up in his arms.  He resembled more of a father and less the Director of Torchwood. 

Which he wasn’t about to apologise for. 

 _“You’re right, of course,”_ Redmond answered in conciliation.  _“We do apologise for interrupting your time off – “_

 _“Apologise?”_ Xanthi scoffed.  _“Director Coulson, you should be the one apologising, for the gross misuse of Torchwood resources in your personal crusade!”_

Phillip felt his magic rise a bit at the insinuation, and he curbed it before it could show.  In the back of his mind he was still surprised at the ease of control he had now.  “I resent that, Councillor.  I have taken leave from Torchwood under the circumstances – “

_“You should be doing your duty to the Empire, instead of off on some crusade that doesn’t concern you – “_

“Of course, it concerns me,” Phillip interrupted.  “It was my sister-by-mating who was brutally murdered.  Another was attacked by the same person, and her own mate was killed – “

_“Who happens to be immortal!”_

“And now my son has been hurt,” he went on, ignoring the Councillor’s words.  “The Star Dragons have declared war on the ones responsible, and have been given approval by Her Imperial Majesty to conduct that war as we see fit.”

_“You’re not even a Star Dragon!”_

“I beg to differ.  The moment I mated into the Jones Clan, I became one of the family.  I might not be related by blood, and I might not be able to change into a dragon shape, but I am every bit a Star Dragon as my mate.  We have called for Vengeance against HYDRA and the murderer calling himself the Dragon Slayer, and until that vow is complete I have taken leave from Torchwood.”

Phillip couldn’t believe how angry he was.  How dare Xanthi…He had no idea what was bringing this on, but he needed to get things cleared up before he completely lost his temper.

Councillor Redmond had a hand on Xanthi’s arm, as if to hold him back.  _“Let’s all calm down.  Getting angry isn’t going to help.”_

It was a little late for that, but Phillip didn’t say it.  He was just glad that Daisy had fallen asleep; she was very good at picking up on the emotions of those around her, and he didn’t want her reacting to his mood. 

 _“Director,”_ Redmond went on, _“we would like you to come to Throneworld, to appear in front of the Imperial Council to answer to these allegations.”_

“I’m sorry, Councillor, but that’s impossible at the moment. As I’ve already said, my son had been badly hurt – “

_“We understand, and you have our condolences for that.  But this cannot wait.  The Council needs assurances that you’re not using your position as Director of Torchwood to forward your own agenda as in regards to this alleged terrorist organisation.”_

“There’s nothing _alleged_ about what HYDRA is up to.  We know for a fact that they are responsible for the bombings on Euros, and aborted gas attack on Thoros, the incursion to the Great Library and the act of near-genocide against the Vashta Nerada.  Add to that the attempted kidnapping of Crown Prince Joshua…”

 _“Be that as it may,”_ Redmond said smoothly, _“we need you to appear before the Council for questioning.  We cannot risk the neutrality of Torchwood because of personal vendettas.  We do understand that your family is important…”_

Phillip couldn’t believe this was happening.  His shock had him saying, “If you doubt my ability to separate my job from my family – “

 _“That’s exactly what we’re doing,”_ Xanthi exclaimed, smirking slightly.  Phillip wished his magic could travel through the comms system, because he really wanted to ice the insufferable bastard’s ass. 

 _“Will you appear before the Council?”_ Redmond enquired.  His pale eyes looked at Phillip sympathetically.  _“Believe me, Director, when I say this is important.  Torchwood is a power in the Empire, and we need to assure ourselves that it’s in the proper hands.”_

“Let me ask you this,” Phillip couldn’t keep the growl from his voice.  “If it was Director Harkness in this office right now, would you be flinging these accusations at him?”

 _“But it isn’t Director Harkness,”_ Redmond pointed out.  _“And his affiliation with the Institute is such that we couldn’t hold him accountable without Imperial order.”_

“But you can me.”

Honestly, Phillip was within an inch of resigning.  The only thing keeping him from doing it was the fact that he was certain that was what they wanted him to do.  

But, when he accepted the Directorship of Torchwood, it had been because Jack and Ianto had _asked_ him to.  They’d felt he was the right person for the job, and it hadn’t taken much convincing for him to finally leave Throneworld and the Grand Mastership of the Shieldsmen, especially after he’d realised that Clint was his mate.  He was finally home, and he _knew_ he was damned good in his position.

 _“We also have some…concerns, about the recent torture you were subjected to.”_ Redmond made it sound so reasonable, as if he truly was worried about Phillip’s mental health. 

Phillip didn’t buy it for a red-hot second.

He thought he could see what was going on.  Torchwood was a very powerful force in the Empire, and it had long been held by relatives of the original Director and Second.  After Jack and Ianto had retired, there had been a long line of Directors who could, in many ways, be controlled by the Empire; when Arthur had taken over and it had been discovered who he was, there had been an uproar in the Council until Arthur had managed to convince the Throne that he wasn’t after the Imperial seat; he’d only wanted to run Torchwood. 

And now, the man who’d once been the power behind the Throne was in charge.

Phillip had gained himself quite a few enemies in his time as Grand Master.  He’d held a great deal of prestige and power, and the only thing that had kept them from trying to remove him was the fact that he’d never tried to arrange a coup and usurp the throne. 

He knew that many people had been relieved when he’d left the Shieldsmen.  But then, he’d become Director of Torchwood.  He’d run the Institute for nearly eighty years, but he very much doubted his enemies had forgotten their ire toward him, and had in fact passed that enmity down to the ones who’d taken over for those either dead or retired.

It certainly didn’t help that Her Imperial Majesty, Danielle, looked at him as an unofficial uncle. 

This could very well be an attempt to either get him back under rein, or to get him out of the Directorship entirely.  And it couldn’t have come at a worse time.

Phillip really didn’t have much of a choice. 

Danielle would support him; she was the last word, and Torchwood only answered to the Imperial Throne.  The immortal could very easily contact her and get her to force the Council to set aside these so-called charges, but that would only end up making things worse in the long run.

Besides, there was a little bit of truth to what the Councillors were saying, it just wasn’t to the extent they were intimating.  Case in point: the group of scientists working on trying to get some sort of clue from the knife the Dragon Slayer had dropped.  There was also the crystal that supposedly found reincarnated souls and brought out their old memories.  It could be seen as a misuse of Torchwood resources to investigate those two items…if the Council knew about them.  As of this moment, Phillip hadn’t sent any sort of report on the artefacts, wanting to keep it all under wraps until the scientists had a chance to figure things out.

He had to capitulate for now, even though it grated on him to do it. 

“Very well.  I’ll present myself on Throneworld tomorrow.  I’ll need to make certain my daughter has someone to look after her while my mate is busy with our son.  I’ll also need to inform Director Harkness and Second Jones of what’s going on.”

Neither of them looked happy with Phillip’s second statement, but he could really care less.  They were forcing him to leave his family at this juncture, right when they needed him. 

Besides, Phillip also wanted to contact the Empress and let her know what the Council was doing, because he doubted that anyone had cleared this with her, first.

 _“We’ll expect you,”_ Redmond responded. At least he had the decency to look a little contrite.  Xanthi had a triumphant smirk on his handsome features, and it made Phillip glad that he was all the way on Hubworld, and not in the same room with the Halistran.

He only hoped he could keep his temper when he was in front of the man.  Otherwise, he might be arrested for giving the bastard a deadly case of frostbite.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

**_1 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Ddraig Llyn_ **

****

“Tad,” Anwyn called from the lounge, “there’s a call for you and Dad coming in.”

Ianto looked up from where he’d been making sandwiches.  Having almost his entire family there was beginning to deplete their supplies, and they’d have to stock up again soon.

He wasn’t about to complain about it, though.  He loved having everyone close.  If only it wasn’t for the reason it was.

HYDRA had declared war on them, by first killing his daughter, Sabrina, and then for going after Rowena, Henry, and Skylar.  They were all gathered together for that reason, and Ianto hoped that, one day, they’d do it again, only for a much better reason.

Still, there were some of his family that weren’t there.  Morgan and James were wrapping up their tour with Morgan’s band, Starshine.  Nathan would have usually been with them, but he’d never gone back after Sabrina’s service, opting to stay home with his family.  Ianto knew that Phillip and Clint were glad of it, having their eldest son out of what could potentially be harms’ way. 

Then there were the ones off on Hubworld, but Ianto was fairly confident that they’d be safe there.  Yes, Lisa and Rhys had been kidnapped from there, but he knew that security had been tightened considerably since that had occurred, Phillip and Melinda not about to risk a repeat of that particular event.  Hubworld had become virtually a transmat-free zone, with only certain people allowed to enter and leave the system without thorough checks.  First Garrett, and now Morgause…they weren’t about to take any more chances.

Ianto wiped his hands on a tea towel then headed out of the kitchen.  Jack was already at the screen that doubled as comm and entertainment centre, waiting for him. Anwyn, their eldest daughter, had obviously decided to sit in; she was in one of the armchairs, as was Nathan, Emlyn, and Gareth. 

“It’s Detectives Walsh and Shraeger,” Jack reported as he joined them.

Ianto’s heart did a little harder thump than usual.  The pair was investigating the attack on Rowena and Henry.  Maybe they’d found something?

Without prompting, Anwyn had the comm line connected.  Ianto was still surprised at how much Detective Walsh resembled his son, Clint, even though they’d had seen a lot of people throughout their lives who were doppelgangers of loved ones.  This was the first time it had happened and the person Walsh looked like was still living.

“Good afternoon, Detectives,” Ianto greeted them calmly, hiding the fact that he was really hoping they had some sort of clue for them to follow.

 _“Good afternoon,”_ Shraeger returned the greeting. 

“What do you have?” Jack asked, not bothering to hide his ‘Captain’ voice, which told Ianto that he was just as expectant as the dragon was.

 _“We found this at the scene.”_ Walsh held up a standard evidence bag.

Ianto leaned a little closer to the screen, squinting slightly.  There was a ring in the bag, silver, with some sort of design on it.  “Do you have anything close-up?”

Instantly, high-resolution scans popped up on the line.  The ring looked ancient, silver worn smooth by the slow turn of centuries.  One side was melted, as if it had been exposed to great heat, but it wasn’t enough to obscure the abstract figure of a horse that had been carved into the flat front of the ring. 

“It looks like a seal ring,” Ianto mused. 

“A what?” Anwyn asked.

Ianto wasn’t overly surprised that his daughter might not have seen one before. “Seal rings were once used by nobles to seal their letters.  You’d put a drop of hot wax onto the folded flap of a letter, then press the ring into the wax to leave an impression.  In this case, a horse.  They were very widely used when I was a child, and this ring looks to certainly be old enough.”

“It looks like it’s been in a fire,” Jack added. “I take it we’re assuming it was from when Abraham used his flame?”

 _“The damage is new,”_ Walsh confirmed. _“Forensics was able to tell that much.”_

 _“What we wanted to know,”_ Shraeger said, _“would this be something that might have been in Professor ap Llyn’s hoard?”_

“Your team found it in the bedroom?” Ianto confirmed.  For it to have been affected by Abraham’s flame, it would have to have been.

At the simultaneous nods he received, Ianto explained, “Then, no.  It wouldn’t have been in Rowena’s hoard.”

 _“How do you know?”_ Walsh asked.

“I’m…not sure I can put it into the right words.”  He took a deep breath.  “For a dragon, the hoard is almost…sacred.  We all have an instinct to hoard, it’s a part of us.  It can be anything: I’ve been known to hoard books and jewellery and precious stones, but one of my daughters hoards all sorts of weapons.  Another, musical instruments.  With Rowena, she preferred antiques, which could also mean rings and such, but none of us would take bits out and leave them lying about.  Yes, we might use what we collect for other things, such as gifts or to buy something else that we might need, but we do have the need to keep it all in one place.  Rowena wouldn’t have just taken a piece from her hoard and left it around the house.”  Jack had once called Ianto’s compulsion to keep his hoard all together as a form of dragon OCD. 

And Ianto had often used parts of his hoard for other purposes.  It had been certain pieces from his hoard which had purchased Ddraig Llyn from its former owners.  Jack was wearing a ring that had been the dragon’s father’s, and had been a part of his hoard for centuries.  He’d also given several gifts to loved ones, and it was the ultimate sign of love and esteem to do so.

 _“Would she let Professor Morgan do it?”_ Shraeger suggested. 

“Mates know better than to remove anything out of a hoard,” Jack denied.  “Rowena might have given it to him as a gift, but I can tell you that Henry didn’t go in for jewellery like that.  About the only thing he usually wears is a pocket watch.”

That seemed to have confirmed something that both detectives had been considering; they glanced at each other, and Walsh nodded slightly. 

 _“We thought that might be the case,”_ Shraeger answered.  _“But we needed to confirm.”_

Ianto was glad that they were willing to believe him.  Some people didn’t understand dragons and their need to hoard, and these two strangers were taking his word.

“You think the ring was dropped by the Dragon Slayer.”  Jack said it as a statement of fact, as if there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he wasn’t misunderstanding things.

 _“We put the ring through every database we have access to,”_ Walsh said. _“And it was reported stolen from the British Museum two months ago.”_

Ianto frowned, understanding that the two detectives needed to be sure it hadn’t been in Rowena’s possession, without coming straight out and calling their daughter a thief.  “You mean our assassin stole it?” That seemed so very far-fetched, he wanted to dismiss it.  Yet, he had no doubt that the two coppers weren’t lying about what they’d discovered.

“Something about that ring must mean something to the killer,” Jack mused.

“Do we know how old the ring is?” Anwyn butted in. 

“This is our daughter, Captain Anwyn Harkness-Jones,” Ianto introduced quickly.

Shraeger and Walsh did another one of those glances that spoke volumes, and the dragon had to wonder if they were together, or if they were just such close partners.  He hadn’t known them long enough to make any sort of guess, but that sort of silent conversation came only after years of knowing one another. 

 _“The paperwork says it dates back to the tenth century,”_ Shraeger finally answered Anwyn’s question. 

Anwyn was chewing her lip thoughtfully, and Ianto realised that she had something on her mind.  So had Jack, judging from the scrutiny his mate was giving her.  “What is it, sweetheart?” he prompted.

“I was wondering maybe this was another reincarnated enemy of ours,” she answered slowly.  “We’ve been running into a lot of them lately, and with the ring being so old, I thought it might be someone from Merlin and Arthur’s past…but that’s too late for them.”

“It was a good idea,” Jack shrugged.  “But they can’t all be reincarnations.”

To their credit, neither detective vocally questioned what Anwyn had said, even though it was obvious they wanted to.  Ianto decided to throw them a bone and get the conversation back on track.  “Do you have any plans on questioning anyone at the museum?”

Walsh nodded.  _“We’re waiting for transmat clearance now.”_

Being police on the Moon, they would have had to apply to Earth law enforcement in order to get permission to work out of their jurisdiction.  It might take a while, and Ianto didn’t want to stand idly by while this lead dried up even more than it already had.

“We can take care of that for you,” the dragon assured them.  “Would you object to having an observer along?”

 _“Actually, that might be a good idea,”_ Shraeger said.  _“We could use an expert as a consultant on this.”_

Ianto was glad they weren’t going to point out the very obvious conflict of interest involved with him coming along with them.  “Let us talk to our contacts at EarthGov Law Enforcement and we’ll get back with you as soon as we have the clearance.”

 _“We’ll wait to hear from you.”_ With that assurance, Walsh cut the comm, and the screen went dark.

“He _really_ looks like Dad,” Nathan commented, sounding somewhat in awe of that fact.

“I’ll get with EarthGov,” Jack said, “but you’re not going alone…”

It had been decided that anyone leaving the relative safety of Ddraig Llyn would have another member of the family accompany them.  It made a lot of sense; so far, this Dragon Slayer hadn’t had any luck with more than one dragon, and that was before they’d managed to get a hold of his weapon.  If he wanted to continue his predations, he would now have to rely on non-magical means, and while that would still kill a dragon if used in the correct way it would make it a little harder to accomplish. 

“I’ll go with Grandtad,” Nathan volunteered. 

Ianto had no objections whatsoever of Nathan acting as his escort in his meeting with the coppers.  Ideally, he would have liked Jack to go, but he also knew his mate had wanted to meet up with Cadi, Alun, and Toshiko on Dahlnia Prime, in order to go after the two criminals, known only as H and G.  They’d had information that the pair had been responsible for sending Sabrina into the trap that had led to her death, and Jack really wanted to get his hands on them, to find out if they were HYDRA or if they’d been paid to do it…or both, which was entirely possible.

Ianto had wanted to go as well, but his talents were really best suited for this mission.  He would have usually asked Henry to go along, but he knew his son-by-mating wouldn’t want to leave Rowena’s side, not when she was unable to really take care of herself.  Henry had the background in both history and antiques, but Ianto wasn’t so much of a slouch, either, having lived through the period that the seal ring had been used.  His father had actually owned one, in point of fact, having used it as his personal seal in his human business.  He’d been a renown tailor, and had been the one to have made the robes for Arthur’s confirmation ceremony, back in the days of Camelot and Uther Pendragon’s kingship.

He could also have asked River, but she was on Hubworld, and perfectly happy to be there, with the Doctor and Merlin.  He didn’t want to drag her away from her family.

Besides, Ianto knew his grandson, and Nathan hated being in one place too long.  It was the same wanderlust that had been a part of his father, until Clint had found his mate and had settled down for good.  Although, to be honest, Clint’s need to move was motivated more by the need to keep his true identity secret until he could meet Phillip again in the future, and he’d just grown to enjoy it, and his son had inherited it.  Nicole was steadier, and hadn’t minded giving up the vagabond life.

“Then as soon as we get clearance for our police associates, we’ll leave,” Ianto said, accepting his grandson’s offer.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

**_1 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Ddraig Llyn_ **

****

Jack had just finished speaking with Earth law enforcement about approving the visit of the two cops from the Moon domes and was coming out of his office when Phillip appeared in the family transmat, Daisy with him.

His son-by-mating didn’t look at all happy, and it was a good thing that Daisy was sleeping or else she would have been agitated by her Dad’s bad mood.

“What’s going on?” he asked, concerned, ushering him into the lounge.

“I received a summons to appear in front of the Imperial Council,” Phillip answered, anger making the words come out as a growl. 

The immortal frowned.  “Whatever for?”

“Not only have I been accused of misusing Torchwood resources for a personal vendetta,” he spat, “there is also some question as to my mental status.”

“That’s…I was going to say insane, but the pun wouldn’t be appreciated,” Ianto replied.  His mate was standing in the entry to the dining room, and had overheard.  As had Anwyn and Nathan, who’d remained in the house after the call from those two detectives.  Gareth had left to check on their wounded family members. 

“I’m glad you didn’t decide to go with that, but I agree with the sentiment behind it,” Phillip said. “Nevertheless…”

“When do you have to leave?” Nathan enquired, looking very upset.  And who could blame him?  This was his father, and anyone making such allegations against him had to bother the younger dragon even more than his face was giving away.

“I need to be on Throneworld tomorrow.  I’d like to leave a little early, because to be honest I’m not certain that Danielle knows what’s going on, and I really want to consult with her on this.”

“You’re probably right,” Anwyn agreed.  “Especially since you’ve been a friend of the Imperial family since forever.”  Then she smirked.  “Well, nearly as long as I’ve been alive, I should say.”

Anwyn had a point.  Phillip had been a great help in the transfer of Torchwood from Earth, back when Torchwood and SHIELD had been more closely affiliated as they now were.  It had also been Phillip who’d supported them both when Jack had discovered that he was pregnant with Anwyn, and had been the one to look after their eldest daughter when he and Ianto had had to go out on Torchwood business.

Phillip had been Anwyn’s main caregiver until she’d turned ten, and that was when the Imperial Throne had recalled the other immortal back to Throneworld, in order to take up the position of Grand Master of the Shieldsmen, and to convert SHIELD into the organisation it was today.

They’d lost touch after that, only speaking sporadically.  Only Anwyn had kept up with Phillip’s life, and it had been on her recommendation that they finally bring him home, and to ask if he wanted the Directorship of the Institute.  Even though it had been almost one hundred years, Jack still felt a little niggling of guilt when he thought back on that time.  Phillip had been a part of the family, and they’d grown apart, and now Jack wished they’d worked harder at being in each other’s lives.

It was only later that they’d realised that Phillip hadn’t thought of himself as part of the family.  Another reason to feel guilty about things.

“I’m going with you, Dad,” Nathan offered.  “We know it’s Throneworld, but you still shouldn’t go on your own.”

Phillip smiled softly at his oldest son.  “I’d appreciate the company.”

“What about Daisy?” Jack asked.  “I don’t think it would be a good idea to take her.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” the other immortal mused.  “They’re calling me there on such short notice, after all.  What if I couldn’t find a sitter?”

That wasn’t a danger at all.  Anyone in the family would have been perfectly willing to look after little Daisy for the time being, and that didn’t even include her other father, who was currently sitting watch on Skylar. 

“That’s…incredibly passive aggressive of you,” Ianto commented, smirking.  “I think I’m proud to have you in the family right now.”

“As if you aren’t any other time?” Anwyn teased.

“Oh wait,” Nathan said.  “I promised I’d go with Grandtad…”

Phillip cocked his head curiously, even as he absently bounced his little girl in his arms.  “Go where?”

As Ianto explained about the ring that had been found in Rowena and Henry’s bedroom, and where it had traced back to, Anwyn reached over for the little dragon, making grabby hands at the baby.  Phillip handed the sleeping child over to her aunt, who promptly went sappy at the armful of cuteness.

Jack suspected that his daughter would be requesting another egg to hatch soon, glancing over at the fancy door that had been melded to the wall.  The stasis unit behind that door would keep those unhatched babies viable indefinitely, but Anwyn had discovered that she loved being a mother, dating back to her raising Arthur, and then with Erik, and Jack couldn’t see her going for much longer without another little one to bring up.

“That sounds like a solid lead,” Phillip agreed.  “It definitely needs to be followed up on.”

“I’ll go with Tad,” Anwyn volunteered.  “I know you’d rather be with your Dad, Nathan.”

The younger dragon smiled at her gratefully.  “Thanks, Aunt Anwyn.”

“No problem.”  She looked up from Daisy, to regard her father.  “Phillip, now you just have to explain it to my brother without him going off and declaring vengeance against the entire Imperial Council.”

Jack winced, the involuntary movement echoed in his son-by-mating.  Clint was extremely protective, and he’d be furious that anyone would accuse his mate of anything. 

“I’ll just need to point out that he should stay and look after Skylar,” Phillip answered.  “And of course I’ll leave Daisy with him, as well.”  He shrugged slightly.  “I know he won’t like it.  It hasn’t escaped my attention that Clint hasn’t wanted me out of his sight ever since the Library.”

Jack grinned.  “I didn’t think you’d have missed that.”

“It was pretty hard not to.  But I think it’s time for him to let that overprotectiveness go.  Not that he will, but it’s time.”

“You’re not going to convince Dad of that so easily,” Nathan said.

Phillip nodded.  “I know.  But he needs to stay here, and you’ll be going with me.  Throneworld has more security on it than Hubworld does, so we should be perfectly fine.  And it’s not like the Council can actually remove me from Torchwood.”

“They can’t,” Jack assured him.  “They might try, but in the end it’s up to the Empress.  And Danielle likes you far too much to do any such thing.  Plus, you’re an excellent Director.  The Council is just trying to get you under their thumb.”

While Jack had enjoyed being the Director of Torchwood, he’d absolutely _hated_ the politics that went along with the position.  He’d often let Ianto handle that sort of thing; he was much more diplomatic than Jack was, and was less likely to ruffle any feathers.  He’d also been excellent at soothing the wounded feelings that Jack would inevitably create.

Actually, Ianto had hated the politics, too; he’d just been really, really good at navigating through it all.  And Jack hadn’t made it all that easy, either.

“That was my interpretation as well,” Phillip agreed.  “Torchwood hasn’t been controllable by the Council ever since Arthur took control.  And I already had a reputation from my time as the Grand Master of the Shieldsmen.  They’re simply trying to throw their weight around and they’re using what’s happened to do just that.  It won’t be the worst thing I’ve ever had to deal with.”

“I’d offer to go with you…” Jack began.

“I think we both know that would do more harm than good in this circumstance.”

He was right, of course, and Jack knew it.  If he went with Phillip to support him in front of the Council, it could be seen as some sort of confirmation that Phillip was, indeed, not fit to be Director, if he needed the Director in Perpetuity to fight his battles for him.  It could also be interpreted that Jack, himself, still held the reins of Torchwood and that Phillip was under Jack’s own thumb.  They might also believe that Jack was there to quash the proceedings by throwing his own, considerable, weight around.

Any of those scenarios would make Phillip look weak in the eyes of the Council, which would be playing right into their hands.

“I should go and speak with Clint,” Phillip sighed.  “Then I should contact the Empress, and let her know what’s going on.”

“Good plan,” Ianto said.  “If they’re leaving Danielle out of the loop, then they’re definitely up to no good.”

“Let me go and break the news to my mate.”  Phillip turned to Anwyn, who’d taken up a place on the nearest sofa and was cooing at Daisy, who’d awakened and was tugging at a lock of her aunt’s hair playfully.  “I take it I’m fine with leaving her with you?”

Anwyn didn’t answer, busily making funny faces at the baby, who was wriggling in delight while still pulling that lock of hair.  Their eldest daughter didn’t seem to mind the pain it must have been causing to her scalp.

“I think I’ve lost my daughter to her aunt.”

Jack had to laugh at that.  “Give her an inch, and she’ll take the entire kid.”

Anwyn glanced up, rolling her eyes, but not being able to move her head that far due to the baby clutching at her hair.  “I’m not that bad.”

“Yes, sweetheart,” Ianto chuckled, “you are.”

“I’ll leave Daisy in your capable hands,” Phillip smiled, “while I go and tell my mate the bad news.”

“First floor,” the dragon directed, “first room on the right.”

Phillip nodded, then turned on his heel and headed down the hall, toward the stairs. 

Once he was gone, Nathan let out a fierce growl.  “Is it okay if I smack down some of those Councillors?”

If anyone could be as overprotective of his family as his Dad, Clint, it was Nathan.  He was obviously very bothered by the Council summons, and Jack couldn’t blame him; he felt the same way. 

And at this time.  It had to be some sort of power play, hoping to catch Phillip enough off-guard so that they could get him to knuckle under to whatever pressure they would bring to bear against him.  It would have worked too, after everything Phillip had been through in the last several months, if it had been anyone else but Jack’s son-by-mating.  Phillip was one of the strongest people the immortal knew, and could handle whatever was thrown at him.

“Your Dad can handle himself,” Ianto said, unconsciously echoing Jack’s own thoughts.  “He’s tough, and won’t let them walk all over him.”

“I know,” Nathan blew out a breath, and with it his tense shoulders slumped.  “It’s just wrong, you know? He’s an _awesome_ Director, and he doesn’t need this right now.”

Nathan was distressed, and Jack couldn’t blame him.  He rested a hand on the younger dragon’s shoulder, squeezing in reassurance.  “He’ll be fine.  This is just one bump in the road.  Honestly, the times people thought I wasn’t fit to run Torchwood…well, I’ve forgotten more of those times than I care to admit.”

“And you’ll be there to support him,” Ianto added.  “He’ll need you, Nathan.  Just stand by him.”

Nathan straightened proudly.  “You know I will, Grandtad.”

“Go on up,” Jack moved his head toward the stairs.  “Your other Dad is going to be upset, and it’s also going to bother Skylar, and your brother doesn’t need to be all up in arms, especially since he can’t do anything about it.”

Nathan nodded.  He might have enjoyed teasing his younger brother, but he really did adore Skylar, and had actually taken time off from touring with Morgan and Starshine in order to help his Dads take care of Skylar after he’d been hatched from his magical egg.  He’d been distraught when he’d heard about the Dragon Slayer targeting Skylar, and if there hadn’t already been an outstanding Vow of Vengeance against the person Nathan would have sworn one, there and then. 

After Nathan had followed his Dad upstairs, Jack collapsed onto the sofa next to Anwyn.  Daisy chattered at him happily, and then crawled over into his lap, her croon almost a song.  He smiled down at her and then cuddled the stuffing out of her, not for the first time so very glad that Phillip and Clint had been able to have a natural child of their own.

There had been some doubt, but they hadn’t really taken the Great Dragons into the equation, and they should have.  Those meddling busybodies were more than capable of taking things into their own, metaphysical, hands and making things happen.

And thus, was Daisy Coulson-Jones conceived.

“Gada!” Daisy said, as clear as day.  “Gada!”

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Jack answered softly, his heart swelling.  “I’m your Granddad.”

Anwyn was making a noise that could only be described as a ‘squee’.

Ianto was grinning in pleased surprise.  “I really do hope that wasn’t your first word, little one, because your Dads will be so jealous.”

Jack laughed at that.  Ianto was right; while both Phillip and Clint would be overjoyed that their youngest had just said something understandable, they’d both be jealous that her first word was as close to Granddad as she could make at the moment.

“Although,” the dragon continued, “she’s really very young to be speaking.”

“She’s a special little girl,” Anwyn cooed.  Then she said, her voice pitching high, nose practically right up to the little dragon’s snout, “Can you say Aunt Anwyn?  Aunt Anwyn?”

Daisy reached out and bopped her nose with a wing tip, squealing in delight at this new game.

It was a light-hearted moment.

Little did Jack know that it would be the last in a while.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

**_2 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_London Island_ **

**_Earth_ **

****

Ianto and Anwyn arrived at the main transmat terminal near Torchwood Central.

The building had been built over the area where the original Hub2 had been.  Ianto remembered the repurposed warehouse fondly; it had been the first headquarters for the recommissioned Torchwood London, back in the early 21st century.  It had been run by Phillip’s nephew, Patrick Delaware, who had also been Ianto’s first son-in-law, as he’d married Jack’s daughter, Alice.  The dragon had been so proud when she’d adopted him, back even before his and Jack’s first official mating, and he felt a tinge of sadness knowing that Patrick and Alice’s descendants had all died out a long time ago, back during one of the wars that the nascent Empire really hadn’t had any business in fighting. 

The Tower had come after Patrick’s time with Torchwood.  It had become the main branch after Old Cardiff had been inundated by the same flooding that had made London an island, and Jack and Ianto had spent several centuries there, and had only moved out when Hubworld had finally become habitable.  There had even been a small, SHIELD satellite office on the lower floors, staffed by several of Coulson’s hand-picked people, and eventually Phillip – back then, he’d simply been Phil – had taken offices there, the better to run SHIELD operations and to get him away from the second Playground.  It had become hard for him to stay there, once the members of his original team had all passed on.

Now, London was a man-made island, created when the poles had melted off in 2050.  It was surrounded by what was now known as the Thames Bay, a shallow sea that was slowly receding, now that the ice sheets had reformed.  There was some talk about a new ice age, but there was the environmental station on the Moon that helped tip Earth’s climate back into balance.  It was a slow process, but one day things would be back in equilibrium.

The dragon wasn’t so sure about controlling the environment like that, but humans would be humans, and they never really have accepted that the planet had waxes and wanes, and that it was the natural way of things.

To be honest, Ianto thought that the planet was just too far built up anymore.  During the Great Land Grabs of the 3000’s, property had become all-too important to humans…as if they could truly own their little bits of Earth.  Yes, perhaps he was a bit of a hypocrite since he owned the lands surrounding Ddraig Llyn, but in his case it was to keep the area from being overdeveloped like most of the world had been.  It had worked, and now Ddraig Llyn – and once Avalon – was one of the very few places on the planet that was still in mostly its natural state. 

It hit him, as he was standing there with Anwyn, waiting for the two detectives from the Moon to arrive, and surrounded by the bustling of humans and aliens, that he was actually hoping that his family would find some way to move to their own world.  The dragon yearned for a quiet place, where the buildings didn’t stab upward into the sky, and where cars and shuttles and all the noise that accompanied a city didn’t surround him.  Where there were trees as far as the eye could see, and mountains, and clean water and clear sky. 

The longing hit him in the chest, making his heart ache.

“Are you alright?” Anwyn asked, looping her arm around his and resting against his side.

Ianto shook off the sudden, melancholy, mood that had fallen over him.  “I am.  I was just thinking.”

“Must have been some pretty heavy thoughts.”

Ianto hadn’t talked to her yet about what the Empress had said.  Yes, he’d spoken to Clint, Robyn, and Alyce yesterday, but there hadn’t been enough time to call a family meeting to fully discuss it.  Hells, he hadn’t even let Jack know that he’d been seriously considering the notion.  Things had been happening too fast to really sit down and talk it out, but he made a promise to himself that he would do just that when this Dragon Slayer was stopped, and HYDRA cut off down to its roots.

“It’s fairly complicated,” he told her, “and I fully intend on letting others in on what I’ve been considering.  So don’t worry,” he patted her hand, the one resting on his bicep, “I promise to let everyone in on it when it’s time.”  He hoped that didn’t sound condescending.

From the smile she gave him, he hadn’t.  “Then I won’t bother you about it.  For now.”

It was those final two words that had Ianto returning her grin.  That was his daughter.  She knew when to pick her battles and when to take a step back, and she’d take his word for it until she thought it had gone on too long without him sharing.

“Second Jones?” 

Ianto turned at the voice.  Detectives Shraeger and Walsh had just come down from the transmat platform, and Shraeger had her hand out in greeting, a genuine smile on her pretty face.

Ianto took a moment to, once again, marvel at the universe and its need to repeat certain people in it, as he took in Detective Walsh’s very familiar features. 

“Detective Shraeger...Detective Walsh,” he returned the greeting, accepting her handshake and then one from her partner as well.  “Thank you for allowing us to come along.”

“Thank _you_ for cutting through the red tape so handily,” Walsh answered.  “If we’d put in the request, it would have been weeks before we’d have gotten the approval to work outside our jurisdiction.”

Ianto nodded, understanding all about bureaucracy.  “It wasn’t a problem.  You and Detective Shraeger are investigating something that’s personal to me and my family, and if I can help in any way I can, I will.”  He gestured toward Anwyn.  “And allow me to officially introduce my eldest daughter, Captain Anwyn Harkness-Jones.”

They exchanged greetings as well.  “Do you have the ring with you?” Ianto requested.  “I would really like to see it up close, if that’s permitted.”  It had been a long time since he’d worked with the police directly, and wasn’t certain what their rules on evidence handling currently were.

Walsh pulled the bag out of his jacket pocket.  “As long as you don’t remove it from the evidence bag, you’ll be fine.”

The bag itself had a red seal across the top, with a set of initials scribbled onto a small, frosted section on the front of the plastic in a black, indelible, marker.  Ianto manipulated the bag so the ring was pressed up against the plastic, to get a better look at it.

The high-resolution images had been extremely clear, but they hadn’t been able to communicate the sheer age of the ring.  Ianto could practically _feel_ it through its wrapper, the ancient and worn silver glinting dully in the sunlight, the darkness of the horse carving stark against the brushed metal.  He could even make out what had to have been wax left over from the last time it had been used for its original purpose, caked deep within the lines of the seal. 

The area that had been melted marred the side of the ring, and the dragon rubbed his finger across it, even though he wasn’t able to get much from its texture through the plastic.  It had certainly been exposed to a source of high heat, like a dragon’s flame.

Ianto handed the ring back to Walsh, thanking him.  “It’s definitely a seal ring,” he confirmed.  “I’m not familiar with the sigil, however.”

“We’re hoping someone at the museum will be able to give us some background,” Shraeger replied.  “We have an appointment with a Doctor Jeffrey Dorian in…” she glanced at her wrist chronometer; it was an expensive piece, a little more than what a copper could afford, and Ianto had to wonder about her familial connections.  He and Jack hadn’t checked into either Shraeger or Walsh’s backgrounds past their records with the Second, which had been impressive.  “Half an hour.”

“We can either hire a car,” Anwyn said, “or…we can go by dragon express.”  The grin on her face was definitely shit-eating. 

Ianto rolled his eyes at her.  “Not everyone wants to ride dragonback, Anwyn.”

She looked completely innocent, which meant the direct opposite.

Detective Walsh looked excited by the prospect, but his partner didn’t seem all that certain.  Not that Ianto could blame her.  Jack had once described that riding on a dragon was a little like flying a sentient bi-plane without any sort of restraints or control.  His mate, of course, adored that sensation of complete freedom – up until he’d found out he could transform himself – and Ianto had had a willing partner in his more daring aerobatic attempts.

He’d never dropped Jack.  Not once.  Repaying his mate’s complete and utter trust in him.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Walsh said aloud, confirming the eager expression on his face.

“Come on then,” Anwyn invited.  “We can take off from the roof.”  She turned her excited grin on Ianto and Shraeger.  “We’ll see you there.”

Jason Walsh looked like a kid who’d just been told that the Spirit of Christmas really did exist, and was going to bring him a puppy for being a good boy.

Shraeger was shaking her head in fond disbelief as Anwyn and Walsh took off, almost running across the terminal toward the door that was obviously marked as stairs.  “He can be such a big kid.”

“Well, it’s not every day you’re offered the chance to ride a dragon.  Are you sure you don’t want to?  I’ve never let anyone fall…”

“That’s okay.  I think I want to keep my feet on the ground and I have a thing against throwing up on people.”

“Fair enough.”  Ianto offered his arm to her.  “Then let’s find a cab and head toward the museum.”

“How gallant,” she giggled, accepting.  “And if it gets back to my colleagues on the Moon I’ll be teased mercilessly.”

Ianto could understand that, having worked with teams before.  “I won’t say a word.”

 

**********

 

The British Museum was on the same site it had been for nearly thirty-five hundred years, but the building itself had gone through several reconstructions over the millennia.  At some point in its history it had gone back to what it had looked like back in the 20th century, during a renaissance of classical architecture that had occurred sometime in the 40th century. 

Today, it was very much as Ianto could recall it, but that had been a very long time ago and he might very well be misremembering.

The façade was neo-Classical, with tall marble pillars supporting a portico with carved reliefs along its peaked entrance.  The white of the stone gleamed in the sunlight, and Ianto found himself shielding his eyes a little as he regarded the museum entrance, waiting for his daughter and Detective Walsh to arrive.

It was quite busy that time of the day.  As he and Shraeger stood on the lawn outside, a group of schoolchildren walked past, chattering excitedly as their chaperones kept them moving toward the steps going into the Museum.  He made a mental note to come back for a visit when he wasn’t there to act as an expert in a police investigation, as it had been a very long time since he’d set foot inside a museum at all.

Ianto had a fine sense of history.  After all, he’d lived through a lot of it.  But it had been so very long since he’d taken the time to just appreciate ancient cultures and treasures, and he would have to ask around his family for anyone who might want to accompany him.  He could guess that Henry would, and Rowena – when she was feeling up to it.  Nicole might like to come as well, as would Bronwyn and possibly Lisa and Jocelyn. 

“I understand there’s a Torchwood gallery now,” Shraeger commented idly. 

“There is,” the dragon confirmed.  “I haven’t actually seen it, although Jack and I did consult on it when it was first suggested.  I believe they have some interesting artefacts in the gallery, including one of the original Rift Manipulators, as well as things recovered from the original Hub in Old Cardiff.” 

He’d drawn the line at the researchers disturbing the Vault.  The bodies of former Torchwood operatives interred within deserved to be left to rest in peace.

Maybe it was past time to see just what the museum had on _that_ score, as well.

“They’re here.”

Ianto turned away from his perusal of the museum in time to see Anwyn touch down on the lawn, scattering museumgoers in the wake kicked up by her powerful wings.  She landed gently, her wings furling as Walsh slid down from her shoulders, windblown and flushed from the inevitable adrenaline high that came from flying dragonback.

“That was incredible!” Walsh exclaimed breathlessly as he joined them. 

“Now you can tell everyone you got to ride on a dragon,” Shraeger snarked. 

“They’ll never believe me!”

Anwyn had gathered an interested crowd, so it was a few minutes before she was back in her human form and striding toward them, shedding admirers as she came closer, sashaying her hips a little in display despite the fact that she had a mate back at home.  Never let it be said that she wasn’t Jack Harkness’ daughter.

“Where are we supposed to be meeting this Doctor Dorian?” Ianto enquired politely. 

Shraeger pulled a small personal tablet from an inside pocket of her jacket.  “Upper floor, Gallery Forty.  European Medieval History.”

Together, the four of them made their way up the steps and into the British Museum.

Just inside the enormous front doors was a set of stairs that led up to the first floor.  They took those, not having to deal with the crowds in the Grand Court area, where the shops and restaurant were located.  Ianto was glad of it; it wasn’t that he hated crowds, it was just that they were there for business and he didn’t want to get overly distracted by the people watching he’d invariably end up doing.  Plus, the smells of food were making his stomach tell him that he’d only had a few biscuits earlier, and was demanding that he feed it soon.

It felt good to finally have his appetite back.  He’d known that Jack had been worried about his not eating, but it wasn’t until just yesterday that he’d realised that his own children had noticed as well.  Still, it had been difficult to eat, knowing that Sabrina was gone and feeling helpless about it.  The raid on Avalon had done quite a lot to restore his appetite.  Knowing they were finally doing something had gone a long way to bring him back into his own personal equilibrium.

The stairs opened out into a small landing.  Along one wall was a branch of _Star Teas_ , which had Ianto smiling and Anwyn digging an elbow into his ribs playfully.  Past the tea shop was a wide entryway, and beyond that was a gallery, lined with glass covered displays filled with items that had Ianto itching to browse through.

It wasn’t because he wanted any of them in his hoard…alright, maybe a couple of the items would make nice additions.  However, these weren’t something he could touch and take, and so they held no such interest for him.

Instead, it was the sheer amount of _history_ in the room. 

It felt…soothing. 

There were many people walking among the exhibits.  Ianto watched as a family paused in front of a cabinet filled with gold and silver jewellery; next to that was an ornate set of mail, burnished with age.  A tapestry that still held onto most of its brilliant colour was hanging behind a protective, clear forcefield, and Ianto found himself stopping to take in the hunting scene, picked out in intricate stitches and knots on the thick material.

“Doctor Dorian?” he heard Detective Shraeger call.

Ianto turned from his perusal of the tapestry…

And found himself looking at Owen Harper.

Not the Owen Harper that was currently on Hubworld, the one reincarnated as a Polarian.  No, this man was the spitting image of Owen as he’d been back in the old Torchwood days: dark-haired, dark-eyed, with a slightly sallow complexion and thin features.  He was a little shorter than Ianto, dressed in clothes that his Owen would never have been caught dead in, looking more like a kindly professor than an acerbic medical professional in his tweed jacket and brown trousers. 

Sometimes the universe did things that Ianto wished it wouldn’t.  Really. 

“And you must be Detective Shraeger,” the man greeted her warmly, his accent a soft British tinge to the usual Galactic Standard.  “And Detective Walsh, I presume.”

Walsh agreed.  “And this is – “

“Ianto Jones!” Dorian exclaimed, a happy smile that looked completely wrong on that familiar face.  “Of course I know who you are!  The Torchwood Dragon!”  He reached out, shaking Ianto’s hand as if his life was now complete for having met him.  “You should take a trip through our Dragon History Gallery; I’m sure the curator there has got it all wrong.”

He didn’t have a lot to say about that, because chances were this stranger with a familiar face was most likely correct.  Most of the knowledge out there on dragon history was from old fairy tales and legends; it was one of the reasons Ianto had agreed to teach at Luna University, to make certain the correct information was out there for people to access, if they were so inclined. 

Now, it looked as if he wouldn’t be going back to complete his courses.  Rowena and Henry had resigned, and Ianto’s classes had been cancelled.  It wasn’t a secret why, and in fact in the weeks since Sabrina’s death he’d found all sorts of messages of condolence on his personal comm account from former students and instructors alike.

“Thank you for seeing us, Doctor Dorian,” he said cordially, once the sheer surprise had worn off.  “And this is my eldest daughter, Captain Anwyn Harkness-Jones.”

Anwyn was giving him an odd look, and Ianto figured that she must have caught his shock and wanted to question him about it.  Thankfully, she was willing to wait, also greeting their contact with equal cordiality.

“It’s not a problem,” the historian answered.  “Anything I can do to help with an ongoing police investigation.”

“Is there anywhere we can talk in private?” Walsh asked. 

“Oh!  Of course!  Please, follow me.”

Doctor Dorian led them through the Medieval History Gallery and through a semi-hidden door in the back wall.  There was a set of employee stairs just on the other side of the door, and the historian took them downward, past the ground floor and then underground. 

The employee areas of the British Museum were all below ground.  They walked through an enormous area that was dedicated to restoration, with long, brightly lit tables – some resembling climate-controlled labs than anything else – where the equipment of the trade was on display on shelves and in cabinets.  Restoration specialists were working around the long room, a couple of them greeting Doctor Dorian as they passed, also giving the four strangers looks that went from open curiosity, to open hostility. 

Ianto could understand both.  After all, they were interlopers in academic territory, and some of those academics would have taken their presence as trespassing.  It was most likely only the fact that Doctor Dorian was escorting the group that kept security from being called.

The man’s office was a hole in the wall, if possible even smaller than the office Ianto had had at the University.  Although, it might have simply looked that way, as cluttered as it was, and it made the dragon’s archivist soul weep a little.

There was a desk that looked ancient, and not in a particularly good way.  Shelves lined three of the four walls, and were stuffed full of books and papers, and on the wall that the door was in there was a poster with frayed edges– a chart that showed a variety of ancient weapons – that looked as if it had been tacked to the wall using some sort of cheap adhesive. A high-tech magnifier slash light was clamped onto the edge of the desk, and a fairly new looking computer set-up took up one whole section of the desk opposite the lamp.  There were various artefacts laid out on the blotter, as if its owner had been examining them when he’d been called away for their meeting.

“I’m sorry I don’t have chairs for you all,” Dorian apologised profusely.  “I don’t get many visitors, truth be told.” 

“That’s fine, Doctor,” Shraeger assured him. 

“I understand you have something you want my advice on?” He looked eager.

Walsh pulled the ring out his jacket once more, handing it over to the historian. 

If Ianto had thought the man was excited before, the moment he had his hands on that evidence bag put him into the stratosphere.  “You’ve found it!” he exclaimed.  Then he frowned, pulling the bag close to his face, squinting as he examined the object.   “But it’s been damaged…” He rooted around his desk, locating a jeweller’s loupe by touch and screwing it into his left eye.  “No…this isn’t good at all!  What happened to it?”

“We found it at the scene of an attempted murder,” Shraeger answered.  She seemed to be taking the lead in the questioning, and Ianto wondered if she and Walsh had worked it out in advance, or if this was just something they did.

Dorian removed the jeweller’s loupe and shook his head in bewilderment.  “A murder?”

“An attempted murder,” Shraeger corrected.  “The victim was injured, but she’s going to be fine.”

The historian seemed genuinely glad of that fact.  “But how did it get there?” he asked.

Walsh held out his hand for the evidence bag, and Dorian reluctantly handed it back.  “That’s what we’re hoping you might be able to shed a little light on,” he said.

“I can only tell you what’s in the official report.  It was on display up in the Medieval Gallery – I can show you the case on your way out, although it’s been repaired now – and when I made my morning rounds two months ago, I found that someone had used one of the maces that are in the Weapons Gallery and had smashed the reinforced glass.  The ring was the only thing taken, which is a surprise given what was also in that particular display.”

“What did they pass up?” Shraeger put in.

“There were four gold chains, one of them encrusted with rubies; an ornamental dagger, with a garnet in the pommel; a set of knights’ spurs; and another ring that was considerably more valuable than what was taken.” 

“What can you tell us about the artefact?” Ianto asked.  “I know it’s a seal ring, but I don’t recognise the sigil on it.”  It had to have been that particular ring the thief was after, and if they knew its history perhaps that would give them a clue.

Dorian brightened.  “Oh, it’s a very interesting piece.  According to what we’ve been able to discover, that ring had belonged to a Sir Guy de Marigny, a Knight of the First Crusade.  We don’t know much about him, only that he was of Norman heritage and had a castle and lands in what is now Northern Wales.  According to the documentation we have, he was part of a group of knights who…”  he faded out, looking vastly uncomfortable.

He wouldn’t meet Ianto’s eyes.  Which told the tale.

“They were Dragon Slayers, weren’t they?” he asked, voice quiet in its intensity.

Dorian nodded vigorously, but it also seemed apologetic.  “His lands passed to his son circa 1100 Old Earth Year, when his father was killed…by a dragon.  The stories say Sir Guy and a group of fellow knights ambushed a family of dragons and managed to kill all of them but one, who then proceeded to kill the knights themselves.”

Ianto wanted more than anything to sit down.

“Tad?” Anwyn asked worriedly, her hand under his elbow to steady him.  “What is it?”

From a distance Ianto heard Shraeger ask Dorian for a glass of water, but he was so caught up in his memories it simply didn’t register. 

This…couldn’t be happening.

It was his worst nightmare.

Someone pressed a cup in his nonresponsive hands, and when he didn’t drink from it, it was raised to his lips.  He swallowed convulsively, still in such a state of shock he simply couldn’t react.

He could still smell the smoke and the blood, even after so very long.

He could hear the laughter as the knights celebrated their victory over the evil dragons, as they toasted their success over the burning bodies of his family.

Marcus’ roar of pain and rage when his brother-by-mating found them still echoed in his dreams sometimes. 

He’d been dreaming a lot about it, ever since they’d discovered that someone out there knew how to kill dragons, reliving that horror in the dark of night, with his own mate to comfort him when the images had him awakening in terror, thinking he was back at that time, curled about the smoking bodies of his parents and sister.

Anwyn’s anxious voice finally broke through the waking terror, and Ianto found himself sitting in a straight-backed chair, his head between his knees.  His daughter was kneeling in front of him, blue eyes wide in fear…fear for him, for his apparent collapse at the news that they were dealing with a true Dragon Slayer, one that shouldn’t remember that past life, let alone be coming after his family now.

“It’s me,” Ianto rasped, voice weak and harsh in his ears.

“Tad?” Anwyn prompted, her hands grasping his.

“You were wondering if it was someone from Merlin and Arthur’s time,” he reminded her.  At Anwyn’s nod, he went on.  “But it’s not.”  His eyes met hers.  “It’s someone from _mine_.”

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to be gone over the weekend, so I won't be posting again until a week from today. I hope everyone has a great holiday, and I'll see you in a week!

 

**_2 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Imperial Throneworld_ **

****

Phillip might have once lived on Throneworld, but in coming back he realised just how much it really wasn’t home any longer.

He and Nathan stepped off the shuttle together, bags in hand.  Phillip hadn’t packed much; a change of clothing, pyjamas, and his official Torchwood uniform, which he’d wear in front of whatever inquisition the Imperial Council had decided to set up for him.

And that was what this was: an inquisition.

The longer he’d considered, the more certain he was that this really was some sort of power play.  Torchwood had long been at the beck and call of the Throne, dating back to its very inception, and the Council really had no real control over the Institute.  Still, it was always a good idea to humour them in a lot of things, but final say always came down to the Imperial seat. 

He would have been within his rights to refuse to dance to the Council’s tune.  Empress Danielle would have called the entire thing off, if he’d just given her the nod.  In the conversation they’d had after Phillip had broken the news to Clint – and hadn’t his mate been incensed about it! – Danielle had said as much, that the charter Torchwood had with the Throne meant that the Council technically couldn’t summon him anywhere, and that she’d stomp on this so fast the various members calling for his head wouldn’t have realised they were jelly until it was far too late.

Phillip had been grateful to her for her support, but this was something he could handle on his own.

He needed to make a statement.  To show the Imperial Council that their attempt at gaining some sort of control over him wasn’t going to work.  And that meant appearing in front of whatever farce they were arranging and putting his own foot down.

If they were thinking to prove he was unfit for his position, they had another think coming.

An official car was outside of the spaceport, waiting for them.  Phillip was about to go up to the chauffer with the sign saying “Coulson” on it when a voice called his name.

Phillip smiled when he saw Steve approaching.  

He’d had the pleasure of working with every single Steve Rogers since the first one.  Yes, he’d had a bit of hero worship going on for Captain America, but the original Steve Rogers had been a down-to-Earth sort of person who could swear like a sailor and who was true to his beliefs.  From what he could recall, there had been a time when they hadn’t gotten along because of…well, he thought it had to do with the fall of SHIELD. 

This Steve he’d known since he’d been a boy, and had been introduced to the immortal by his father.  That had been a little over three hundred years ago, and Steve was just now gaining some silver in his blond hair.  The Rogers family had always been very long-lived due to the original Super Soldier serum, but he knew that, eventually, that formula would breed out and every Rogers would then become normal mortals once more.

“It’s good to see you,” Steve greeted them warmly.  “I just wish it were under better circumstances.”

“So do I.”  He took the offered hand.  “I’m sure you remember my son, Nathan?”

“Of course.”  Steve gave Nathan a smile and a handshake as well. “Her Imperial Majesty asked for me to come and pick you up.”  He turned a glare onto the man who’d been sent by the Council; the chauffer blanched slightly under that expression. 

Phillip snorted.  He was actually glad that Steve was there.  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the person the Council had despatched, but he did hate to put himself and his son in the hands of a complete stranger, especially after everything that had been happening lately.  Plus, there was no telling what the Council had in mind for lodgings, and to be honest Phillip would have rather stayed either at the Playground or at the Palace.

He recognised the statement for what it was: tacit support from Empress Danielle and from the Grand Master of the Shieldsmen.  It meant that they weren’t going to put up with any of the Council’s attempts to make Phillip look bad, and that they had his back in whatever the immortal decided to do in order to smack down the uppity members of the Council. 

That message would get back to Xanthi and Redmond, via the driver that had been there waiting for them.  They weren’t going to like it, but Phillip could really care less.

“Quarters have been arranged for you at the Palace,” Steve said, as he led them away from their assigned ‘escort’ and to his own vehicle, a nicer model with the Shieldsmen emblem emblazoned on the front doors.  It was the original SHIELD eagle, stylised and in black, but it had been the Shieldsmen symbol far longer than it had been SHIELD’s. 

Nathan got into the back seat, leaving the front for his father.  Phillip accepted it, letting his son take his bag and stow it in the rear compartment with his own, and then got into the vehicle.  Steve pulled them away from the curb and into traffic, driving competently.

“Danielle is pretty angry about this,” he spoke, once they were away from the spaceport.  “She would’ve called Xanthi and Redmond onto the Imperial carpet already if she didn’t know you wanted to handle it yourself.”

“And I appreciate that.  But she knows why she can’t come galloping to the rescue.”  It was for the same reason that Jack accompanying him had been a really bad idea: it would make Phillip appear weak, when he needed a show of strength in order to put questions about his competency to final rest.

Steve nodded.  “She does, but it doesn’t mean she has to like it.”

“How is Prince Joshua doing?” Phillip changed the subject.

HYDRA had attempted to kidnap the six-year-old Crown Prince not that long ago.  The Shieldsmen were investigating, and would take action, but Jack and Ianto had informed the Empress that the Star Dragons would be going to war with HYDRA for what they’d done to Sabrina.  The vengeance had just piled up after that, what with the attacks on Rowena, Henry, and Skylar.  They’d been keeping Danielle and Steve in the loop on their own enquiries, but Phillip wondered if they were completely up to date.  He’d have to ask.

“He’s still not acting like himself,” Steve admitted.  “Danielle says he’s having nightmares about what happened.  But it could have been so much worse, and there’s no telling what HYDRA would have done to him if they’d gotten their hands on him.  From the rhetoric they’ve been spouting, I very much doubt he would have come out of it alive…or at least as the Joshua we all know and love.”

“At least your men managed to stop the attempt.  I’m glad you didn’t lose any.”

“No, but you know they would have given their lives for that little boy.”  Steve gave him a brief smile.  “We have your training to thank for that.”

While Phillip hadn’t actually trained any of the current Shieldsmen, he knew what Steve meant by the compliment.

Phillip took a great deal of pride in the work he put in on creating and building up the Shieldsmen.  When the Imperial family had decided to move away from Earth and onto a world that was more central to the rest of the Empire, at first it had seemed as if SHIELD would no longer be needed.  It had, long before that, become protection for various Royal families, transitioning easily when Earth became a major power in the universe. 

And so, for the first hundred years, Phillip had been at loose ends.

In that time, he’d helped out with Torchwood.  When Hubworld had finally been ready for habitation, him and what had once been SHIELD had helped with the move and, when Jack had suddenly discovered he was pregnant, had stepped in to aid Ianto with putting the finishing touches on Torchwood’s new home. 

It had been ten years after Anwyn had been born that the Emperor had requested that SHIELD take up its place as protection and intelligence for the new throne, and Phillip had been more than happy to accept the new position as Grand Master…even though he’d thoroughly despised the title and hadn’t used it when he could avoid it. 

He’d served the Imperial family faithfully for nearly twenty-five hundred years, before being asked to take on the duties of Torchwood’s Director. 

He was very glad he’d chosen to make the move, especially as he’d regained the family he’d thought he’d lost when he’d taken on the Imperial job. 

Well, except for Anwyn.  He’d been such an integral part of her life for ten years, and had been her beloved Uncle Phillip before he’d become her brother-by-mating.  She’d kept in touch beyond the official briefings with Torchwood he’d had, insisting that he was still very welcome.  He hadn’t felt that way, and it had turned out to be a massive misunderstanding: Jack and Ianto had thought he was wanting the distance, and were respecting what they’d considered his wishes; while Phillip had believed that they were keeping away because they no longer thought of him as family.

Thank Goddess they’d worked _that_ out.

“Danielle has him speaking with a psychologist,” Steve continued, “and they seem to think he’ll recover.  Children have an amazing capacity for healing.  He’ll be fine.”

“That’s good,” Phillip murmured.  He’d been really worried about the prince. 

“We need to find the rest of HYDRA and kick their arses,” Nathan declared. 

Steve gave him a grin.  “And we will.  And how’s Skylar doing?”

“Gareth thinks it’s going to be about three weeks before he can even think about trying to take on his human form,” Phillip replied.  “The knife cut along his shoulder and back, and it’s done some damage to the flight muscle.  It’s going to be harder to get him to stay put once he starts getting antsy about keeping to his bed, but we’ll be able to handle it.  Right now, he’s got Clint promising to show him the same moves Alyce used to fight their assailant, and trying to convince Robyn that she’s awesome.”

There was a chuckle from the back seat.  Nathan understood what he brother was trying to do with their Aunt Robyn, and Phillip’s son could relate to it in a way.  As someone who’d once been uncomfortable in their dragon form, Nathan could appreciate his brother’s attempts to make Robyn feel better about herself.

“And what about Rowena?”

Phillip sighed.  “Her healing is going to take a bit longer.  The damage done was far worse.  But she has Henry and the twins, and they’ll take care of her.”

“Do we have any other leads?”

“I’ll be more than happy to brief both you and Danielle once we get to the Palace,” the immortal assured him. 

“Sounds like that might be a ‘yes’, then.”

“it is. Ianto and Anwyn are following up on something that was discovered during the police investigation on the Moon, and we’re all cautiously optimistic.”

“Good. Because I can tell you, my resources have pretty much dried up.”

Steve had despatched the Shieldsmen’s elite team, the Howling Commandos, out to hunt HYDRA the moment they’d realised who they were dealing with.  But HYDRA had managed to go to ground and, so far, it had only been sheer chance that had gotten them where they were at the moment. 

Their identities were checked at the entrance to the car park under the Palace, and then Steve drove inside, pulling their official groundcar up to its assigned place.  Nathan grabbed their bags and the three of them headed up the lift and into the upper levels of the Palace, Steve and Phillip needing their personal codes to get the lift to go all the way up into the residential area.

Phillip had spent much of his existence so far in this building, so he was familiar with where they were going.  The living spaces of the Palace were where the Imperial family stayed, and it looked as if they were going to have rooms assigned in the actual personal areas.  He wasn’t surprised at Danielle’s decision to house himself and Nathan so close; it was another, silent, ‘fuck you’ to the Council who’d gone behind the Imperial back to summon Phillip to defend himself against some fairly ridiculous charges.

Oh, there was a part of him that could understand.  Torchwood was one of the most powerful organisations in the Twelve Galaxies, and the Director of said Institute couldn’t be seen as mentally deficient.  Not that Phillip was, but a part of him could appreciate their reasoning, even if it was being used as a patently obvious power grab.  After all, it hadn’t been all that long ago that he’d suffered two days of torture under the mind probe, and then his magic had been accidentally overloaded.  Add to that the family tragedies, and he could see where there might be some question about his current competence in leading Torchwood.

However, he was positive that this happening now wasn’t out of any sort of caring on behalf of the Imperial Council. 

No, this was a blatant attempt at forcing their will on him, and Phillip wasn’t about to let that occur.

His and Nathan’s quarters were up near the top of the Palace, in the central tower.  They were well-appointed, with rich and expensive furnishings, curtains pulled aside from the windows to reveal the city beyond.  They were up high enough that the clouds were practically within touching distance – if the windows actually opened – and several levels below theirs one of the many walkways connecting the surrounding towers of the Palace glittered in the sunlight, the shapes of people moving along the clear tunnel very visible.

There was a sitting room, and off to each side of the suite was a door; Phillip knew they led to bedrooms, each with their own en-suite.  Comfortable furniture done in paisley fabrics and pale wood were scattered about the room, and someone had decided that plants would make the place that much warmer, so two small trees in ornate gold pots sat on opposite ends of the panoramic window. 

“If you’ll leave your bags,” Steve requested, “Danielle is waiting.”

Nathan dropped both by the right-hand door; they’d settle which bedroom they’d go into later.  Phillip wanted to meet with the Empress, make certain she wasn’t going to try to intervene.  Not that he thought she would; Danielle was very politically savvy, and understood that she really didn’t need to fight his battles for him. 

Steve took them up a couple more floors to the private level.  Phillip was glad they were meeting with the Empress quietly, in her personal audience chamber.  Another sign that the Empress wasn’t going to be putting her nose into things. 

Danielle, Her Imperial Majesty, was already there, awaiting them.  She was dressed casually, in a pink blouse and well-worn denims, her feet bare.  Her red hair was back in a rather sloppy ponytail, and she smiled happily as they came into the room. 

She couldn’t have looked less like the ruler of Twelve Galaxies in that moment if she’d tried.

But then, Phillip had been serving her family for generations.  Toward the end of his tenure as Grand Master, he’d been more a favourite uncle than faithful retainer, and that had carried on even after he’d left for Hubworld.  Case in point, the hug she gave him in greeting.  She was wearing that gardenia perfume that suited her, and Phillip couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m sorry that it’s come to this,” she whispered into his chest.  At five foot nothing, she was quite a bit shorter than he was, but no one could ever mistake her for being delicate.  She was like Melinda in that respect.

“It’s nothing you could control,” he reassured her.  Then he pulled away.  “You remember my son, Nathan?”

Danielle gave Nathan a brilliant smile.  “Of course I do!”  She gave him a hug as well.  “You’re as handsome as ever.”

Nathan blushed under his dusky complexion.  He mumbled something that Phillip didn’t quite catch, but it made Danielle laugh.

“I’ve sent for tea,” she said, motioning them all to sit.  Phillip took one of the chairs, and Nathan sprawled out on the sofa.  Danielle herself took the second chair, next to the faux fireplace, which was putting out a pleasant heat, the manufactured logs glowing brightly.  Steve chose to stand, just behind the sofa, the better to watch the rest of the room.  Not that he needed to, because they were all trusted implicitly, but the immortal liked to see his once protégé taking such care.

“David won’t be joining us,” she began, speaking of the Royal Consort.  “He’s stuck in some boring meeting…well, boring for me, at least.  I think he enjoys it, honestly, and I’m more than willing to leave him to it.  But Joshua should be along shortly, he was looking forward to seeing you again, Phillip.”

The last time Phillip had seen the Crown Prince, it had been barely six months ago, at the young boy’s birthday celebration.  Phillip had gotten him a set of toy soldiers in the shapes of the historical Avengers, and it had also had the effect of making Steve go a little childish himself over the small, hand-painted metal figures.  Two weeks later, Phillip had found another set and had them sent to the Grand Master as well. 

“Steve says he’s doing better,” the immortal said.

Danielle sighed.  “He’s been far too quiet, but the nightmares are getting a little less violent.  He hasn’t come and insisted on sleeping with David and I in about two weeks, so that’s good.  And how is Skylar doing?”

Phillip explained to her about his son’s injuries.  They made small talk, only breaking when a retainer brought in tea and snacks.  Phillip was happy to be back in the Palace; he’s never admit it to his mate and family, but there were times when he missed it.  He’d lived there a very long time, and while Hubworld was home now, he’d spent far more of his life on Throneworld.   

“Phillip, you should know…”  Danielle looked apologetic.  “I did ask a couple of the Council members who are friendly to Torchwood what was going on, and apparently this summons was something they hadn’t heard was happening.  Especially Guinevere; she was kept completely in the dark.”

Phillip nodded.  That made sense. Not informing anyone who might have given him some warning was the smart thing to do.  That meant Guinevere, his former Second, and the reincarnation of that same Guinevere who’d been named Queen of Camelot even though it had been Arthur and Merlin who’d actually ruled.  Guinevere had chosen Lancelot, just as Arthur had chosen Merlin, and the four of them had been extremely happy in their relationships. 

Now, in this life, Guinevere was married to the self-same Lancelot, and they had their own family.  In matter of fact, they were the number one example of two people being soulmates, finding each other and marrying over and over again, even if they didn’t remember each other.  Although that was a moot point now, as they had all of the memories of their time in Camelot.  Phillip had lost track of how many rounds of reincarnation the two of them had gone through by now, and they were still as happy as they had been in that first remembered life.

When Melinda May had come back on the scene, Guinevere had gladly stepped aside for Phillip’s former SHIELD Second.  She’d accepted the post as the Torchwood representative to the Imperial Council, and had done an admirable job of it.  It must have been galling to her not to have seen this coming.

“There’s a determined anti-Torchwood faction in the Council,” she went on.  “It’s small, but vocal.  It’s being led by Benjamin Cole.”

Phillip couldn’t help the wry smile from quirking up one side of his mouth.  “Of course.  He’d be after Torchwood…me, really…after what had happened with his daughter.”

Lucy Cole had been the first of the reincarnations that had come against Torchwood.  In the life she recalled as Lucy Saxon, she’d been determined to help bring back the sadistic Time Lord known as the Master.  She might have succeeded, too, if not for Torchwood. 

It had led to her being imprisoned at Stormcage, stripped of the magic she’d gained in this life and serving a life sentence for attempted genocide, kidnapping, attempted murder, torture, and several other crimes that had only just added to the punishment that had been handed down.

“And I’m sure it doesn’t matter to him that his daughter is a dangerous psychopath,” he said dryly.

Danielle rolled her eyes at that.  “If it did, he wouldn’t be so hot to come after Torchwood…and you.”

“He took a hit in the pride when Lucy was arrested,” Steve added.  “You know what that sort of thing can do to a man as proud as Benjamin Cole is.”

Phillip did.  The immortal had lived a very long time, and the one thing that was most likely to send someone into a fit of revenge was damaged pride. 

He wondered if HYDRA had approached him yet.  It would certainly be something they would try, to get the man onside, promising Cole help to get even. 

He spoke his concerns aloud.  The expressions he got in return confirmed that both Steve and Danielle had considered it as well.

“How sure are we that HYDRA doesn’t have people on the Council, anyway?” Nathan asked.

“We can’t be sure at all,” Phillip admitted.  “After all, they managed to find someone within Torchwood who was an old enemy, and who could be co-opted into HYDRA.  We have no idea if there’s anyone on Throneworld who might be the same.”

It was a sobering thought, and one Phillip didn’t want to think about, but had to.  There literally wasn’t a single person in a position of power that wasn’t some sort of reincarnation; they just didn’t remember any of their past lives.  If the theories that were now being bandied about were true – and he’d gotten quite a lesson from FitzSimmons, as their people, the Lorelans, were the premier researchers in the newly created fields of study on reincarnated souls – that everyone out there was a reincarnation of some sort, as a codicil to the Laws of Conservation of Energy.  It was only an extremely tiny fraction of them that could recall one of those previous lives…and those all seemed to have some sort of affiliation to the Jones Clan. 

“At least we managed to seize the crystal they were using to awaken those old lives,” Nathan put in.  “And we were able to discover that it was the only one out there.  So no one else can be brought back as of now.”

“But we don’t know if there are anyone else out there who’ve been awakened,” Danielle sighed.

“Merlin’s going to try to work out the magic involved,” Phillip answered.  “But there’s something else: we don’t know how many people HYDRA approached, awoke their former memories, and then those people chose not to go along with them.”

“Is that possible?” Danielle asked.

“We think so.  When we questioned the man now calling himself Agravaine du Bois, he gave it away. Oh, he didn’t come right out and say it, but his reaction told us that yes, there were people out there they’d done the same thing to, and they’d turned HYDRA down.  It would be interesting to see if we could somehow find those people and ask them if they know anything.”

Although Phillip didn’t come out and say it, he personally felt that leaving those persons alone was the best thing to do.  They’d obviously given up the idea of any sort of revenge against anyone involved, and he didn’t want to make them rethink that decision. 

Steve gave him a pointed look, and Phillip was about to ask him why when the door opened. He turned to see Prince Joshua come into the room, accompanied by the young Cassiopeian who was the young heir’s tutor; the Empress had decided to keep her son close ever since the kidnapping attempt. 

The starfish-shaped being squeaked a greeting, bowing awkwardly while Joshua held onto one of hir appendages.  “We are done for today, Your Majesty.” 

The Cassiopeians were one of the rare telepathic races who were allies of the Human Empire.  They’d once been a part of a neutral Federation of worlds, but a rash of devastating invasions had broken it apart, and the majority of the Federated planets had signed treaties with the Empire.  Cassiopeians were excellent negotiators and, apparently, teachers as well. 

“Thank you,” Danielle said warmly.  She stood and opened her arms for her son, who immediately took the invitation and practically ran toward her.  The Empress had to kneel to hug him properly, but she did it gladly. 

The Cassiopeian bowed once more and then left, closing the door behind hir.

Danielle released her son, turning him slightly so that he was facing Phillip. “See, I told you he’d be here.”

Crown Prince Joshua, Heir to the Human Empire, was six years old.  He had his mother’s red hair and his father’s blue eyes, and they widened in pleased surprise when he noticed Phillip sitting there.  “Hi, Director Phillip,” he greeted softly, smiling happily.

“Hello, Prince Joshua,” Phillip returned.  The child seemed much more solemn than he had when Phillip had seen him last, but that was perfectly understandable.  He’d been through a horrible ordeal, even if the HYDRA agents who’d come to steal him away hadn’t actually gotten all that close.  Still, the very knowledge that someone had tried to take him away was going to be harrowing.

Phillip did the only thing he could: he slid out of his chair, and opened his own arms to the prince.  Joshua’s smile brightened even further, and he darted forward to accept the offered hug.

Once the hug was done, Phillip reached into his pocket. “I have something for you.” 

Joshua bobbed up and down in excitement.  “You didn’t have to do that!”

“I know, but I saw it and knew it would be a perfect addition to your Avengers figures.” 

He pulled the small metal piece from his pocket.  When he’d found it on a collector’s page – and yes, he still trawled the auctions for memorabilia…old habits died _really_ hard – he knew he had to have it.  And then, knowing what Joshua had been through and would need some cheering up, he hadn’t thought twice about giving it away. 

The little gasp that Joshua gave when he was handed the figure was so worth it.  “It’s Quake,” he breathed in awe.  His round eyes met Phillip’s.  “Did you know her, too, Director Phillip?”

“I did.”  He carefully lifted the prince and sat back down, settling the little boy into his lap.  “I knew her before she was Quake, back when her name was Skye.  In fact, she was like a daughter to me, and I named my son Skylar after her.”

“But she was also Daisy…”  Joshua said, confused.

“She was.  But that was after I met her…”  He went on to tell the boy the story of how he’d met the girl who’d called herself Skye, ignoring the indulgent looks he was getting from the three other people in the room.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I hope everyone had a great holiday. :)

 

**_2 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Ddraig Llyn_ **

****

“And you’re certain?” Jack asked softly.

When Anwyn and Ianto had returned from London Island, he’d been horrified at how pale his mate was.  Ianto looked to be in some form of shock, and it had taken the two of them to manhandle him up to the attic room where the mates had their nest and to convince him to change his shape and settle onto the cushions under the large skylight, where sunlight streamed in and lit the room that had been theirs for as long as their home had been rebuilt.

Jack had instantly changed into his own dragon form, as had Anwyn, and together they’d curled up next to Ianto, to offer the comfort his mate had so obviously needed.  His daughter had explained what had occurred at the British Museum, and Jack had been appalled at the knowledge that the reincarnation of the knight who’d been partly responsible for the slaughter of Ianto’s first family was back and at his murderous work once more.

They’d passed by Clint on their way up to their room, and their son had noticed immediately that something was wrong, and had said he’d keep anyone from coming up and bothering them.  Jack had been grateful.  

“It has to be,” Ianto whispered, his voice raw in the silence.  “It’s what makes the most sense.”

This had to be Ianto’s worst nightmare come back to life.  Not only had this…person…killed his original family, he’d also slain Sabrina and was responsible for both Rowena and Skylar being hurt.  Jack was pitifully grateful that it hadn’t been any worse…although it was certainly bad enough.  Losing both Sabrinas to the same killer was horrific in the extreme.

Mentally, Jack cursed every single member of HYDRA for doing this to his mate.

Vengeance simply wasn’t good enough.  Not now.

“That bastard died once,” Anwyn growled.  “He can die again.”

Jack agreed.

“I told the two detectives that we’d call and explain,” Anwyn added.  “Tad wasn’t in any condition to stay there any longer, and I wanted to get him home.  They were surprisingly good with that, but I think Walsh is a lot shrewder than he lets on.  I’m pretty certain he caught on pretty quickly.”

If that was the case, it was a shame that the pair of coppers weren’t poachable by Torchwood.  “That’s fine, sweetheart.  I’ll contact them later.”

Walsh and Shraeger had done a good job, tracking down the provenance of that ring.  It was the single biggest lead they’d had in the identity of the Dragon Slayer…and it had led them to such a terrible truth that there was a small part of Jack that wished they hadn’t been so thorough, for his mate’s sake.

Still, they now knew what they were dealing with.  And knew that this person didn’t need magical weapons to fulfil his quest to kill as many dragons as he could. 

He wondered if the sword they had buried in the Secure Archives was the one that this Sir Guy had been carrying at the time of the attack on Ianto’s family.  Jack shivered involuntarily; that thing had only gotten more and more bloodthirsty as time had gone on, and there had been times when he’d argued for it being destroyed.  He often wondered why Ianto wanted to keep it, but had been afraid to ask. 

Now, perhaps, he could talk his mate into tossing it into the same sun they’d disposed of the Darkhold in.  It would be fitting.

They lay there until Ianto fell asleep.  Jack wanted to stay with him, but there was too much to do.  Still, he was afraid to move, not wanting to wake him up, until Anwyn noticed and shooed him off.  “I’ll look after him.  You go and do what you need to do.”

Anwyn was right.  Jack did need to contact the Lunar police, and he knew that Clint at least would be dying of curiosity over what had happened.  Jack was certain it had gotten around by now that Ianto had come back from Earth upset about something, and he should really share it with the rest of the family.

Also, he would need to leave for Dahlnia Prime tomorrow, and he would have to clear up a few things before he left.  For one thing, he wanted to speak to the Doctor, to convince the Time Lord to go with him.  Taking the TARDIS from Dahlnia Prime to Trafusis would be much faster than flying there in Cadi’s ship; plus, he wanted to have someone along to bring Toshiko back to Ddraig Llyn, and he wasn’t sure yet if he was going to be able to convince Alun to do it, or bring another member of the family to escort her.

He was still having a little problem wrapping his mind around the fact that Toshiko, his friend, was now a ten-year-old child with all the intelligence of her life before…and then some.

Any other time, he would have considered taking Toshiko with them.  But not now, when she was still a child even though she had an adult’s memories.  He wasn’t about to risk her, not when she’d just come back into their lives.

Jack changed his form, sliding out from behind Ianto carefully, so as not to rouse him.  Then, kissing first his mate on the jaw, then his daughter, the immortal left their nest and headed downstairs, ready to explain everything that Ianto had discovered. 

Quite a crowd had gathered in the lounge.  Clint was there, of course; but Gareth had also appeared, as had Henry and another half dozen family members.  As one, they all turned to look at him expectantly, and Jack stifled the sigh at the audience that had appeared.

He couldn’t blame them.  They were all worried.  Ianto had been obviously distressed, and they all needed to know why.

And so, Jack explained.

Every single face went grim as he told them all what Ianto and Anwyn had discovered at the British Museum.  About who their mysterious Dragon Slayer was, and his connection to Ianto.  And, when he was done, Jack knew the only thing keeping each one of them in that room was the fact that they had no idea where to start looking for the one who was stalking them.

“So,” Clint said, speaking for them all, “how do we go about finding the bastard?”

“I don’t know.”  Jack scrubbed his hands over his face.  “We thought we’d taken his weapon away, but the knights were killing dragons without magical knives a long time before this one crossed your Tad’s path.  We might have slowed him down, but we haven’t stopped him.”

“We will,” Gareth vowed.

“What can you tell us about the sort of person we’re dealing with, Henry?” Jack asked.  As an historian, his son-by-mating might have some sort of insight into their enemy’s mental state.

“Well, I’m no profiler,” the other immortal began, “but I can say that it took a particular sort of zealot to fight in a Crusade.  They were driven, believing in their cause no matter what sort of evidence to the contrary they saw or heard.  Once they had an objective, nothing would stand in their way to achieve it, and only complete and utter defeat would stop them.”

“So,” Gareth said, “you’re saying is that it’s most likely going to take deadly force to stop him.”

“Pretty much, yes.  The only reason Rowena and Skylar aren’t dead was because this so-called Christian Knight was outnumbered and had to retreat in order to survive to fulfil his mission later on.  We also had a little warning that someone was out there who had the knowledge on how to kill a dragon, so in a way we were prepared by arranging so that none of us would be alone.  Sabrina…she had no warning.  She wasn’t prepared.  She was alone.  And she walked right into the trap that was set for her.  She…didn’t stand a chance.”

“She was our warning,” Emlyn murmured.  “Sabrina…had to die so we’d know there was a killer out there.”

“That’s…horrifically pragmatic,” Kaitlyn grimaced. 

“It’s no less true,” her elder sister practically snapped back. 

Kaitlyn looked as if she was going to lose the calm she’d learned from her Tad, and what made her an exemplary diplomat, and so Jack stepped in.  “Please, let’s not fight about this.”  He gave each of them a hard stare, and they subsided.  “Emlyn is right in a way.  As much as I wish it hadn’t taken Sabrina being killed as our wake-up call, it’s happened and we have to live with that. Alright?”

He was still devastated by Sabrina’s death.  Jack knew he always would be.  But there was a dangerous maniac out there, and they needed to find and stop him.

HYDRA had set this man onto their trail.  They’d reawakened his memories of being a knight, and of killing dragons.  HYDRA was just as responsible for Sabrina’s death as this Sir Guy was, and they needed to be rooted out of whatever hole they were in made to pay.

“Dad,” Clint broke into his thoughts, “what about tomorrow?  You’re going to be meeting Cadi, Alun, and Aunt Tosh on Dahlnia Prime, right?”

Jack was touched that it seemed as if all of his children had adopted Toshiko as their aunt.  Ianto had considered their former tech expert as his sister, so it was gratifying that they were all going to such lengths…even Clint, who had memories of being Toshiko’s teammate. 

“Yes, I’m still going.”

“I have a suggestion…see if the Doctor will go with you.”

Jack had decided on that very thing, but he wanted to hear his son’s take on the matter.  “Why the Doctor?”

“Because he has the TARDIS.  Look, it’s going to take weeks to get to Trafusis if Cadi flies you.  If you go by TARDIS, you can get there almost immediately…well, that is if the Doctor pilots her correctly.  Send Aunt Tosh back with Alun, and then you, the Doctor, and Cadi can travel onto Trafusis together.  That way you won’t be alone.”

“Well, that’s if Alun doesn’t give me a fight about it.”

“True.  But if you put him in charge of Aunt Tosh, chances are he’ll agree to it.  And you know you’ll never get Cadi to stay put.”

Clint was right.  Cadi wouldn’t stand down, no matter what.

But, more than that, they needed her contacts and expertise.  Cadi knew more about the underside of the Empire than anyone else Jack was acquainted with, and he needed his daughter to go with him, to find the mysterious H and G and discover what they knew about HYDRA.

Getting a bit of vengeance for leading his daughter into a trap would be the icing on the cake, and Jack had always believed the icing was the best part.

“You can’t go to Dahlnia Prime alone,” Alyce said fiercely.  “If none of us can go around by ourselves, you can’t either, Dad.”

“And we understand you’re immortal,” Robyn piped up before Jack could comment, “but HYDRA has to know that, too, and they can do things to you that would be worse than killing you for good.”

Warmth bloomed in his chest at his family’s worry for him.  There had been a time when his immortality had been a true curse, but ever since meeting Ianto he’d come to figure out that having someone to spend your eternity with made it so much easier to bear. 

“Plus,” Clint added, if possibly even more fiercely than Alyce had done, “we’ve already had one member of this family tortured by HYDRA.  None of us want a repeat.”

“Alright,” he held up his hand to stop anyone else from adding their two credits’ in, “if you must know, I was planning on asking the Doctor anyway.  Your Tad isn’t going to be happy with me leaving without him, but at the same time I think he’d much prefer to chase after the Dragon Slayer.  I don’t want him going alone, either, so anyone of you who want to help him out I’d appreciate it.  I’m sure Anwyn will already volunteer, but she might need help…”

“It can be me and Robyn,” Alyce said.  “Clint needs to stay here with Skylar and Daisy, and Henry and Gareth should be here as well because of Rowena.  And, since there aren’t any others here to volunteer – sorry, Emlyn, you didn’t speak up fast enough – we’ll be the ones who go along with wherever Tad decides to.”

Robyn nodded emphatically in agreement.  Jack had to wonder if part of the reason she was so wanting to go was to escape Skylar’s blatant hero worship.  It hadn’t been a big deal when that had been aimed at Daisy Johnson, but now it had another target, and the immortal knew she was feeling terribly uncomfortable with it. 

Still, he was grateful to them for doing it.  “Then that’s settled.  And don’t let your Tad try to talk you out of it.”

That caution earned him a twin eyeroll from both of his girls.  “As if we would!” Alyce scoffed.

He gave them one of his best smiles, proud of them already, knowing that they’d most likely have to stand up to Ianto to get him to accept their company. 

“I’m going to take a quick trip to Hubworld, to talk to the Doctor,” Jack said.  “I’ll take my comm with me, so call me if you need anything.  Clint,” he turned to his eldest son, “can you contact Phillip and let him know this newest development?  I’m sure he’ll want to let Her Majesty know as well.”

“Sure, Dad.”

“I also need someone to contact the two detectives…”

“I can do that,” Gareth volunteered.  “They’ve met me, so they’ll accept what I tell them.”

“Good.  Go ahead and tell them what I’ve told you all.  You might need to explain a few things to them, but go ahead and do it.  They’ve been invaluable so far, and I think keeping them in the loop will be the best thing to do in this circumstance.  Your Tad and Anwyn left their company without explaining, and Anwyn promised we’d inform them about that caused Ianto to go into shock the way he had.”  He didn’t add what Anwyn had claimed, that Detective Walsh seemed to have guessed a lot.

Gareth nodded.  “I will.”

“Oh, and call me when your Tad wakes up.”  Jack didn’t need to say how worried he was about his mate.  He’d just gotten Ianto to start eating again, and was afraid this would just knock him back to where he’d been before Avalon.  The last thing he wanted was for that to happen.

 

**********

 

The Doctor was fairly easy to find.  The Time Lord was in the lab with the others, their little thinktank working on the puzzle of the knife and the crystal. 

Jack stood in the doorway, an unconscious smile tugging at his lips as he saw the group working together.  Just having Owen – even if he was currently in an alien body – Suzie, and Diane there, working alongside Fitz and Jemma, Merlin having an animated discussion with his father, and Arthur standing to the side bemusedly, was enough to make the immortal happy.  It felt as if this should have been how things were from the beginning, and it was only missing a few others to make things complete.

Well, Toshiko was on her way, so that was a step in the right direction.

“I’m too old to be scientist wrangling,” Rhys’ voice startled him out of his people watching.

Jack glanced at his friend.  Rhys might have been into his one hundreds, but he was in excellent shape, and the future had been very good to him.  “How are you?” he asked.

Rhys rolled his eyes.  “Like I told your Mam – and she didn’t believe me, either – I feel fine.  Yes, I was exposed to unknown magic, but it doesn’t seem to have affected me at all.  And Gaius confirmed that fact.”

When he and Lisa had been HYDRA’s prisoners, Morgause had used the Reincarnation Crystal – hey, it sounded catchy in his head, but then he’d learned the whole naming thing from Ianto, the acknowledged expert – to reawaken Lisa’s magic, and Rhys had gotten caught in the backlash.  It had caused the earthquake that had alerted them to where the pair were being held, setting off Rhys’ power that came from his connection to the Earth Dragon. 

He did look alright, but Jack was glad he’d gotten checked out.  Knowing his mother, Samara would have dragged him into medical by the ear if he’d fought against going.

“We just don’t want to lose you before your time,” he said softly.  “You’re important to us all…not just to Mom.”

Rhys was faintly embarrassed by Jack’s words.  “Well, already been lost once.  Don’t want it to happen again, do I?”

Jack let the suddenly awkward subject drop.  “How are they doing?” He jerked his head toward the knot of scientists.

“You mean, besides saying shit I don’t half understand?” his friend joked. 

“Yes,” the immortal chuckled.  “Besides that.”

“Well, I get the impression they’re figuring things out, but I’m not sure, to be honest.  They get these instances where they’re all hyper and running around, and then nothing.  You’d best be asking them yourself.  Maybe they’ll talk in a language you can understand, cause I haven’t been able to.”

Rhys was being a bit disingenuous, because Jack knew full well he was a lot smarter than he was admitting.  Still, he could get what he was saying, so he cleared his throat in order to get everyone’s attention. 

Of course, it didn’t work.

Rhys stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly.  That got them all to stop what they were doing and, with an eerie synchronicity, every single person in the lab turned to look at the pair in the doorway.

“Director Harkness!” Jemma was the first one to speak.  She grinned widely, the delicate antenna on her forehead waving in greeting.  “Were you waiting there long?”

Jack wanted to remind her that she could call him by his first name, that he was technically retired, but had long ago given that up as a lost cause.  Sure, she was perfectly comfortable being familiar with Ianto, but for some reason she couldn’t with him.  Ianto had claimed it to be a sign of respect, and the immortal could understand that somewhat.  Maybe someday he’d convince both her and Fitz to call him Jack, but that wasn’t going to be today.

“Not at all,” he assured her.  “Have you found out anything yet?”

Through a silent consensus, it appeared that Jemma was elected spokesperson.  “The knife…well, it’s really just an ordinary knife with some magic in it.  Not particularly strong magic, but we already knew that.  Now, of course, we know why…the wizard that HYDRA kidnapped,” her voice went hard; Jack could understand why, since it had been a twelve-year-old boy, “didn’t have the necessary training to make any sort of enchantment permanent.”

“Have the boy’s parents been contacted yet?” Fitz popped up.  “Do they know what happened?”

“I can answer that,” Rhys interjected.  “Melinda has, indeed, reached the youngster’s folks, and they’re transmatting into Hubworld to collect him.  Apparently, he was taken from his school two months ago by a man claiming to be the kid’s uncle.  Actually had the correct ID and everything, which is why it didn’t raise any alarms.  ImpSec went to collect the man, and he’s vanished.  Suspicion is he’d gone over to HYDRA and happened to mention his nephew was a budding wizard.”

That news got some irate looks around the group.  Jack could understand; that poor child had been traumatised, and to have had a trusted relative be responsible…

“I do hope they catch him,” the Doctor said.  He looked about two steps away from unleashing the Oncoming Storm, but then Jack knew how the Time Lord felt about kidnapping innocents and getting them to do the villain’s dirty work, and it was even worse when it was a _child_.

“I’ll need to talk to his parents,” Merlin added.  “That boy has some pretty impressive raw talent, and he needs to be trained sooner rather than later.”

“Which is why I asked Melinda to call you as soon as they showed up,” Rhys grinned.  “I knew you’d want to discuss that with them.”

Merlin returned the grin.  “Thanks, Grandtad Rhys.  I should never have doubted you.”

“You bloody well shouldn’t’ve!”

The wizard rolled his eyes at the teasing. 

“What about the Reincarnation Crystal?” Jack asked, using his mental name for it before he’d realised he’d done so.

“I thought we left the naming of shit to Dragon Boy,” Owen snarked.

“It’s not that bad!” Jack exclaimed, privately happy that Owen Harper was around again to give him grief once more. 

“It’s certainly better than Artefact 5193m201c,” Suzie commented. 

Fitz was muttering to himself as he made a note on his computer, and Jack just knew the crystal was getting a new name right then.

“Well,” Merlin broke into the banter, “it’s definitely a piece from the Crystal Cave.  It has that familiar magical signature to it.  But Lucy really knew her stuff when she enchanted it…or maybe I should say whoever had her enchant it for them.  They’ve taken the basic properties of the crystal and tweaked it, making it possible to find anyone you might want to locate.”

“Can you explain this Crystal Cave for me?” Jack requested.  He’d heard of it, but really didn’t know much about the place, or what made the crystals within it so special.

“Well, according to legend, it’s supposedly the place where magic began,” his grandson obliged, “although I’m not sure if that means magic was actually born there, or if it was the place where the original Old Religion started.  It’s very sacred though, and an extremely powerful source of magic.  The crystals inside the cave have the ability to show someone potential futures.  I had the opportunity to visit it once, and I’ll never forget it.”

“So, you’re saying the crystal was changed enough to show potential pasts instead of futures?” Jack guessed.

“Yes, that’s right.  All you would have to do is ask to find someone, and it would.”

“That…would be incredibly tempting.”  How many times had Jack wished he could locate his old teammates?  When Arthur’s Knights began reappearing, he would have done almost anything to have his own, original, family back. 

“It would be,” the Doctor said.  “Which is why we should be glad that HYDRA can’t do it again.”

“What’s to stop our adversary from finding another magic user and give them the knowledge to recreate it?” Arthur asked.

Merlin was shaking his head. “Lucy was extremely powerful, almost on par with me.  It would take someone of near-equal power to do it, and there just aren’t that many wizards with that sort of ability.  Rory comes extremely close, but his moral compass is far too strong for him to ever consent to it.  Nicole’s magic, while powerful in its own right, wouldn’t be enough.  And Lisa doesn’t have the training, but I think we can safely say she’d rather die than use her magic right now.  As for anyone else…” he considered, “no, I don’t think there’s anyone else with the sheer power and knowledge to create a new crystal.  We’re safe in that regard.”

That was a relief.  The last thing they needed was for HYDRA to bring any other old enemies back from the dead, so to speak. 

“Can you undo the spells that bring back the old memories?” Jack wanted to know.

“I could, but it’s going to take a while, and it’s time we might not have at the moment.  I think putting it in the Secure Archives under Melinda’s watchful eye will do for now.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.  For now, study what you need to, see if you can get us some answers, and I need to speak to the Doctor for a moment.  Then, when you’re all a little less high from the delight of scientific and magical discovery, we have some news on the Dragon Slayer front.  I do think if you can find a way to track that bastard using his weapon, then that’s what we should focus on.”

That earned him some nods and murmurs of affirmation. 

“Well done, all of you,” he went on.  “You have no idea how much we all appreciate what you’re all doing.”

“Director Harkness,” Jemma piped up, “I have to ask…is it true that Director Coulson was called to Throneworld by the Imperial Council?”  She looked worried.

Jack shouldn’t have been surprised that that piece of bad news had gotten around. “Yes, it is.  Although you shouldn’t worry…it’s really just a power play, and you know Phillip can look after himself around idiots.”

Jemma laughed in relief, and Fitz nodded.  “You have a point, Sir.”

“Now, I’m going to borrow the Doctor for a little bit.”  He turned to Rhys.  “Make sure they take a break at some point, yeah?”

“All part of the scientist wrangling service I offer.”  His friend gave him a sloppy salute that could have be construed for being flipped off, but just made Jack laugh.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

**_2 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Gliese 581g_ **

**_Hubworld_ **

****

Really, the Doctor was having almost too much fun being all science-y when Jack showed up and asked to ‘borrow’ him for a moment.

Yes, he’d had a lot of experience with that sort of thing.  But there was something uniquely different and satisfying working with this eclectic group of people, and a part of him was very reluctant to follow Jack as he left the lab; after all, he really had just arrived, and had been getting quite distracted with the thrill of scientific discovery.  It had allowed him to put aside what he and River had discussed in the TARDIS… although, admittedly, his wife had done an admirable job of that already.

Fitz and Simmons were a treasure.  He’d met them before, back when Phillip had been overloaded by the dark magic, and had been surprised that they were the reincarnations of a duo of scientists from the immortal’s old version of SHIELD.  He’d found himself completely and utterly charmed by them, and had found himself wondering if they might want to take a trip in the TARDIS with him sometime.  He had a feeling that Jemma might jump at the chance, but he wasn’t certain about Fitz; although, the Doctor was willing to bet that, wherever Simmons went, Fitz would go as well.

Then there was the triad of Costello, Harper, and Holmes.  Those three had deep ties to Torchwood, having been on Jack and Ianto’s original team.  To be honest, he was fascinated with Owen Harper the most, mainly because he was truly a contradiction: someone as argumentative and snarky having been reborn as a Polarian.  How had the man survived that peaceful and law-abiding society long enough to leave?  And then, he didn’t have a lick of magic in him, but had become a magical theorist, and from what Merlin was saying he was quite good at it.  In fact, Merlin had confided that it was a shame that Owen _hadn’t_ been born a wizard, because he had such an intuitive grasp of magic that he would have made quite a proficient one.

And the Doctor wasn’t about to forget just how wonderful it was to work with his son once more.

They’d made a great deal of headway by the time Jack had showed up. 

The Time Lord followed the immortal out of the lab and toward the lift.  Back in his last regeneration, he’d seen Jack as _wrong_ , something that shouldn’t exist.  That attitude had been all tied up in Time Lord indoctrination, and it had taken his son to make the Doctor see just how…well, how wrong… _he_ had been about Jack’s immortality.  Certainly, humans weren’t meant to be that way, but he should have taken into consideration that the universe does things that no one can understand, and it usually had a very good reason.  Knowing Jack’s future, the Doctor now knew that Jack’s presence was important, and him gaining his immortality through the Bad Wolf had all been the part of a universal plan. 

There were a lot of races out there who would have claimed that it was some sort of all-seeing deity involved.  The Doctor knew better.  He’d met gods, and none of them were how they were portrayed in the legends.  And none of them would have instigated Jack’s immortality.

No, the universe had its own way of doing things.  And no god or goddess was privy to that process.

His friend – because that was what Jack was, his friend – didn’t actually get into the lift.  Instead, he took a detour past the bank of closed doors and into an empty lab, making certain the door was closed once the Doctor had accompanied him inside.

“What can I do for you, Jack?” he enquired, really curious as to what the immortal was up to.

“I have a favour I need to ask.”

The Doctor took in Jack’s appearance.  He was still wearing all black, and that didn’t suit him at all even though the Time Lord could understand.  He, himself, had decided on wearing a black coat in order to honour the Jones clan and their loss. 

The black ensemble seemed to wash out Jack’s normally tanned skin, giving him a slightly sallow aspect.  His hair was perfectly styled, and he was impeccably groomed, but the Doctor really wished that his former companion would go back to his greatcoat.

“Anything you need.  You know that.” 

The Doctor meant that.  Not just because he felt he owed Jack and Ianto for his former regeneration’s attitude toward the two of them, but because they were friends…they were _family_.

“I want to ask you if you’d go with me to Trafusis.  To help track down those two smugglers who sent Sabrina into that trap on Stark’s World.”

Nodding, the Doctor considered what Jack was asking.  It would be considerably faster if they went by TARDIS; if Jack waited to meet up with Cadi and Alun on Dahlnia Prime, it would still be another three weeks before they could arrive by ship at Trafusis. 

There was a sense of time passing that the Doctor didn’t care for.  He just had the feeling that, the longer they took to finally track down the last of HYDRA, the more of an opportunity the terrorist organisation had to do even more damage. 

“Would it be you and Ianto then?”

Jack shook his head.  “No.  He’ll want to follow up on the lead we just got on the Dragon Slayer.”

As the immortal explained about the police finding that ring, and where – and who – it had led to, the Time Lord became grimmer by every word.  HYDRA had actually found one of the knights who’d been responsible for killing Ianto’s birth family, and that…no, that wasn’t something that could just be ignored.  He could certainly understand that Ianto would want to track this Sir Guy de Marigny down and send his soul onto its next destination.

There had been a time when the Doctor had believed that killing was a final resort.  However, he’d come to learn that there were some crimes that death was warranted, and he’d come to appreciate the dragon need for vengeance.  If anyone would have told him he’d get that notion before this regeneration, he would have laughed at them.

“We’ll need to go to Dahlnia Prime first,” Jack explained.  “I think if we leave Cadi behind we’ll both be in a world of hurt.  Besides, we can use her contacts on Trafusis to find the ones we’re looking for.”

“Just let me know when you’re ready to go.”

“Tomorrow is fine.  I want to make sure Ianto’s going to be alright first.  I think he will be, but I just got him back to eating, and I’m afraid this latest news…” 

Jack looked more than worried; he was scared.  The Doctor didn’t blame him.  He’d noticed that Ianto hadn’t been eating as well, and the Time Lord was well aware that it wasn’t good for a dragon to go without food. Well, it wasn’t good for anyone, but a dragon needed to keep their inner flame fed, and to do that they needed much more fuel than a normal human.  Not feeding that flame would only lead to illness. 

He could very well see Ianto being so affected by discovering that particular part of his past coming back to haunt him that he’d backslide into abstinence once more.

He couldn’t help but reach out, grasping Jack’s wrist in an effort to comfort him.  Under his fingers he would feel the Vortex thrumming under his friend’s skin, calling to his sense of time like a siren.  The human body wasn’t meant to contain it, but Jack was anything but a normal human being any longer.  He’d been changed by the Bad Wolf and by the Great Dragons, and was so much more than the flirty, amoral conman who’d tried to sell him and Rose a Chula ship at the height of the Blitz.

Back then, Jack had come close to breaking through the shell his Ninth persona had built around his heart after the Time War.  He’d never come out and admitted that; but then that incarnation had been the one to abandon Jack on the Gamestation.  Yes, he’d been in the midst of regenerating at the time, and had sensed what Rose had done, but another – very small – part of him hadn’t wanted to go back, afraid of what Jack might, someday, come to mean to him. 

No, saying nothing was a good idea.  Besides, they’d both moved far beyond that time…Jack, with Ianto, and himself with Rose, and now with River, which was really the longest relationship he’d had outside of the woman he’d been married to back on Gallifrey, before she’d been lost to him and he’d run away with their granddaughter.  And Merlin was the first child he’d had since then as well.  Honestly, the Doctor was the happiest he’d been in a very long time.  He’d never really had a family like the one he had now, and the immortal standing with him in a lab in Torchwood Tower was a part of that.

“I could stand here and give you all sorts of platitudes about how things were going to be alright,” he murmured, “but we both know it’s never really ever going to be completely fine again.  But you and Ianto will get past this to a point where you can think of Sabrina and not with the pain you’re both experiencing now.  It’s just going to take some time, and you have all sorts of family to help with that.  Let us support you both.”

Jack’s eyes were glittering with unshed tears, but the smile on his face was teasing.  “I never thought I’d live to see the day that you’d be giving me that sort of advice, Doctor.”  His hand turned just enough to slip his fingers around the Doctor’s, holding on to the comfort that was being offered.

The Time Lord rolled his eyes.  “Well, don’t get used to it.”  He squeezed Jack’s fingers, warm in his. 

They stood there for a few minutes, until Jack sighed heavily.  “I know you’re right.  Ianto and I have lost so many, but this time…I carried her, Doctor.  And Ianto wanted to name her for the sister he lost.  I think that’s what’s really at the heart of so many emotions he’s feeling right now: knowing that our daughter was killed by the same man who killed his sister.  As for me…well, no one should ever have to outlive a child, but at the same time I’ve come to realise that’s going to keep on happening for me.  Not that I’ll ever get used to it…”

“Jack, if I ever see you getting used to something like this, that’s the day you’ll have lost your humanity completely, and trust me when I say…Ianto won’t let that happen.  He’s your anchor, and he’ll make certain you remain the good man you’ve become.  Just as you’re his.  No matter what happens, you’ll always have each other.”

He’d seen it, far in the future: the Immortal and the Last Dragon, together, until they each took their last breaths.  Sure, time could be rewritten – and hadn’t he been a witness to that! – but of this he was certain.  Jack and Ianto would have as close to their eternity as two beings such as themselves would have. 

The Doctor couldn’t put into words how honoured he was to be considered family to this impossible man.  He might never say it, but that didn’t make it any less true.

Jack finally let go, his hand dropping to his side.  “I’m going to go back home and check on Ianto.  Why don’t you and River come to dinner tonight?  Bring everyone else with you.  Oh, and if you can talk Fitz and Jemma into it as well, that would be great.”

“I’ll do my best,” the Doctor promised. 

“That’s all you can do.” 

Jack nodded, and then left the lab, the Doctor standing there for a moment, lost in his thoughts. 

He was very glad that he hadn’t shared his concerns with either Jack or Ianto.  Concerns about Merlin, and Phillip, and even River, although he was a bit less worried about her.  She’d told him that she’d always been aware of her own inner darkness, and that did make her uniquely qualified to deal with any sort of contamination that might show up from her being brought back from the dead.  She was handling her own emotions quite admirably, with everything that she’d lost when Merlin had done what he’d done.  Losing an entire family, even though they weren’t actually dead, could have been eating her up inside.  She seemed to be dealing, and he would be there for her if she suddenly found herself unable to do so.

He also wasn’t as worried about Phillip as he’d started out to be.  His friend appeared to be fine.  The Doctor did have some questions about Phillip’s sudden ability to control his magic so much better than before, and his new-found acceptance of his power, but that was something he would find time to discuss at a later date, when things were done with HYDRA.

As for Merlin…truth be told, the Doctor was by far more concerned about his son than anyone else.  Merlin had done something so incredibly dark, but for the best of reasons, and it was bound to come back and bite him when he least expected it.  It was the main reason he was willing to stay; yes, HYDRA needed to be dealt with, but this was his only son.  The Doctor was almost positive that Merlin was going to crash and burn at some point, although to be fair that could be sometime in the distant future.  Still, he was going to be there for his son when that did occur, to help in whatever way he could.

He wasn’t even going to get into what he thought might be happening to the TARDIS…

Sighing, the Doctor turned and left, heading back to the lab.  He had some convincing to do, to get everyone back to Ddraig Llyn. 

He wasn’t going to disappoint Jack if he could possibly avoid it.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about a bonus chapter today?

 

**_2 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Gliese 581g_ **

**_Hubworld_ **

****

Merlin couldn’t help but be fascinated by the crystal.

He remembered his visit to the Crystal Cave, back during his time as Arthur’s servant, before his mate had become King of Albion.  It had been amazing, and he’d found himself attempting to prevent the future he’d seen there, only to accidentally cause it himself: Morgana killing Uther Pendragon.  It had been a lesson to him, that there were times that trying to fix things could only make them worse.

That had been a difficult lesson to learn, and with his time sensitivity now it was more evident to him that this was usually the case in attempting to keep fate or destiny from happening.  It didn’t mean he still didn’t try, but at least now he could walk into a situation knowing what the consequences might be.

His father always insisted that time could be rewritten, but Merlin was convinced this wasn’t necessarily a good thing.  But then, Dad was the Time Lord…Merlin was only part Time Lord, part something his mother was, and while he could see things along timelines and such, he didn’t have quite the same understanding of time that his father did.

The crystal looked innocuous, sitting in the tray that had been found for it, Torchwood’s archival tag on the front with its designation written on it in neat, square lettering.  _Artefact 5193m201c._ It really didn’t express just what the crystal could do, but that necessarily wasn’t a bad thing.

He could see the magic.  The spells that Lucy had used to awaken the crystal and to twist its magic to her will were impressive.  They permeated the crystal, strands of colour that glittered and flashed in his magical vision.  What he’d told Granddad Jack was correct: Merlin seriously doubted there would be anyone else out there who could work such magic, so there was no danger of HYDRA recreating the crystal. 

Reincarnation Crystal.  That was a good name for it, despite Owen’s snarking at Jack about naming things.

His eyes tracked his Granddad and Dad as they left the lab, Grandtad Rhys giving them a sarcastic salute at something Granddad Jack said on his way past.  Merlin had this distinct impression that something had happened, and wanted to follow, but if Jack wanted to keep things quiet then he’d respect that. 

“I really don’t like this thing with the Council,” Arthur murmured, breaking Merlin out of his thoughts.  “The timing of it…it’s just wrong.”  He turned to Jemma and Fitz.  “You both were with SHIELD back in the day.  HYDRA had people in positions of authority, didn’t they?”

Jemma nodded, her antenna waving fiercely.  “There were at least two members of HYDRA on the World Security Council at the time…Gideon Malick and Alexander Pierce.  Pierce was killed when SHIELD was taken down and HYDRA exposed by Captain America – “

“And we had quite a time with Gideon Malick,” Fitz finished.  “There was also a senator…I’m sorry, but I can’t recall his name…and others.”

“So, that’s a yes.”  Arthur didn’t look happy; he was toying with Excalibur’s hilt, which was a dead giveaway of his distraction. 

“You think there’s a HYDRA bastard on the Imperial Council?” Rhys wanted to know, joining them at the long lab table. He had that look that said he really wanted to rant about something, but just didn’t know what it was going to be yet.

Arthur shrugged.  “I don’t think we can dismiss the notion.”

Merlin’s hearts sped up at the implication.  “You mean Uncle Phillip and Nathan could be walking into a trap?”

“I don’t think HYDRA would be able to get away with hurting either of them, not under the Imperial eye,” his mate admitted.  “But it could be a bit more than a power play against Torchwood.  I don’t think it would hurt to warn Uncle Phillip about the possibility.”

“Director Harkness is correct, though,” Jemma said stoutly.  “Director Coulson can handle himself.”

“But that doesn’t mean a friendly warning wouldn’t go amiss,” Fitz finished for her.

“I’m going to put in a call to Throneworld.” Arthur stood up from where he’d been seated on a stool in the corner of the lab.  “If Uncle Phillip is tied up, then I can at least make Steve aware of our suppositions.”

“Look,” Owen spoke up, looking at Merlin, “you and Harkness might’ve thought that putting that crystal away for the time being was the best thing, but I’m not so sure.  There should be a way to figure out how to back-engineer the seeker spell on that thing to track the ones HYDRA’s used it on.  If there _is_ a mole on the Imperial Council, that would tell us, at least if they were a reincarnation and if their memories had been reawakened.”

Owen was right.  Merlin was beginning to second-guess his report to his Granddad now, in the wake of his mate’s comments.  If there were highly-placed members of HYDRA on Throneworld, and if they were reincarnations, then perhaps cracking the spells on the crystal was the best way to find them. 

“And what if they aren’t reincarnations?” Suzie asked.  “Not every person in HYDRA is.”

“We’ll have to deal with that in another way,” Arthur said resolutely.  “I’m going up to the Director’s office, to use the secure comm line there.  I’ll be back presently.”  With that, he swept out of the lab, which Merlin would never get tired of seeing and would always wonder how he managed it without a cloak.

“And if I’m going to concentrate on this,” Merlin gestured toward the crystal, “then I’m going to take it to a more magically secure lab.  Owen, would you care to help me out with it?”  The Polarian might not have actual magic, but he had a certain intuitiveness that might prove invaluable.

The grin he got was sharp.  “Try and keep me away.”

“I think more metallurgical tests on the knife are in order,” Jemma added.  “There are some strange properties in this metal that I’d like to have a closer look at.”

“And I can run some tests down to the particle level,” Suzie added.

“Which means I feel surplus to needs,” Diane laughed.  “There’s nothing mechanical for me to take apart.”

“Actually,” Fitz spoke up, “you can help me recalibrate some of this equipment.  While we do occasionally get magical artefacts here, we don’t often examine them, so we’re not exactly set up for it.”

“I guess this means I should call out for lunch for you lot,” Rhys sighed.  “You’ll all get lost in the joy of scientific and magical discovery and completely forget to eat.”

 

**********

 

The lab that Merlin chose for his work with the crystal was one of the hermetically sealed rooms down the hall from the more well-used laboratories. 

Once he and Owen were sealed inside, Merlin called upon his magic to set wards around the lab, his magic coming at his call easily. 

In fact, his magic seemed much more responsive to him ever since the Library…and he hadn’t thought that was possible.  He might have been known as the most powerful wizard of the age, and it was true.  There wasn’t anyone more powerful in the entire universe, with his magic and the time sensitivity he’d inherited from his father.  He was, in fact, far more powerful now than he’d been in his previous life, with his genetics a combination of Time Lord and what his mother was and his own, magical, nature.  He was unique in the universe…in the multiverse.

He was still worried about just how the dark magic had affected him, but the conversation he’d had with his mother, back on the path up on Pedair Dreigiau, had put his mind a bit more ease.  She’d been right, of course: everyone had a bit of darkness within, and it was how they used that darkness that defined them.

Merlin could fell it; of course he could.  But he’d come to realise that it was because, now, he was aware of it.  Before, he hadn’t been, but it had become apparent after the sudden infusion of magic he’d taken into himself back in the Library. 

He would always be concerned about its presence.  But his Mom was also correct in saying that his conscience wouldn’t let him stop.  He’d always take that inner darkness into consideration from now on.

“Now, that’s impressive,” Owen commented once the wards were set.  “What did you use…protection?  Concealment?”

“I don’t care if anyone happens to see,” Merlin answered, impressed himself.  “So, no Concealment.  But definitely protection, and something against any accidental bursts of magic that might occur once I start really poking around.”

With a flick of a wrist, he cast the same spells over his companion.  “And now you’re protected as well.”

“And what about you?”

Merlin shrugged.  “I’ll be fine.  My own power will take care of that.”

Owen nodded, accepting that.

The lab was clear of most equipment.  The wizard knew from experience that these were prepared when they were needed, and would be kept practically bare until that time.  There were only the bare necessities: a long, low lab table, some stools, and a rack of smocks and lab coats for those who would be working inside.  The strip lighting was recessed within the ceiling, the fittings also sealed against the chance of any sort of contamination, as was the exhaust fan mounted in the wall.

Merlin set the tray down on the table.  Using his magic, he levitated the crystal from the tray, letting it rest gently to the chrome tabletop, where it lay looking completely innocent.

It was anything but.

“You know,” Owen mused as the pair of them leaned over to examine the crystal, “I really wanna see this Crystal Cave…”

“I’ll be more than happy to show you,” Merlin answered absently.  He knew the gold in his eyes was beginning to swamp their usual blue as he brought his magic to bear.

In his magical sight, the crystal was anything but the clear whitish oblong that it appeared to anyone else not attuned to its power.  To Merlin, it was a coruscating mass of different colours, each another sort of enchantment that had somehow managed to twist the crystal’s original function in what HYDRA had needed. 

“There’s some interesting spells involved,” he said aloud, wanting to at least try to communicate what he was seeing to his newest friend, in hopes that Owen might also have some sort of insight into what they were dealing with.  The man might have simply been a theorist, but that didn’t mean that he might not think of something that Merlin didn’t.

 He could just make out the crystal’s original magical signature under the tampering.  Images fluttered across the facets of the stone, but they were too disrupted and obscured to make out.   “Whatever was done has pretty much completely corrupted the true magic of the crystal…”

“Can you tell what all’s involved with what was done?” Owen prompted.  He was leaning close enough that Merlin could practically feel his body heat through his tunic.

Merlin didn’t mind.  He could understand why the magical theorist would want to get as near to the crystal as possible, and to be honest the wizard was kind of in the way.  Plus, even though he hadn’t been around Owen that much, he could already tell that the man really didn’t have much in the way of a concept of personal space.  He made a mental note to ask his grandfathers if that was a part of his previous life, or something he’d picked up in this one.

“Hmm…I’ve never seen a Scrying Spell used in this way before…it might be part of the crystal’s ability to locate certain souls…and there appears to be a temporal element to it as well…oh, this is gorgeous.  Very elegant.  I have to admit, I’m impressed by whoever came up with this sort of enchantment, because it’s bloody brilliant.”

“If _you’re_ impressed, it must be something.”  There was respect in Owen’s words.

Merlin really wished he could put into words what he was actually seeing, but trying to explain it to someone without the actual magic to observe it themselves, it was almost beyond him.  It was somewhat embarrassing, since Merlin was usually a damned fine teacher and didn’t have this sort of problem. 

“Can you make out any sort of sympathetic magic?  That would make sense if it was there.”

Sympathetic magic _would_ make sense; it was always easier to search for something if the item you were using as a resource had something in common with what it was being employed to locate. 

“Putting that together with the scrying magic you can see could make it like some sort of magical compass, only pointing toward souls instead of any sort of magnetic pole.”

Merlin was nodding in agreement.  Owen was correct in his suppositions.  “I am disappointed that you don’t have any sort of personal magic of your own,” he murmured absently.  “You’d be magnificent if you did.”

“Don’t really want it, mate,” Owen scoffed.  “I just like to know how it works.  Been around enough magic to know it can screw you up royally.  Just look as Lisa.  Poor kid.”

He certainly had a point about Lisa.  What Morgause had done to her had been unconscionable.  She’d done so much to put her former life as Morgana le Fay behind her, and for this to have happened…

Well, it seemed as if she was going to ask for help with controlling it, and both Rory and Nicole were willing to teach her.  Phillip had also shown a willingness to help, and if anyone had any sort of experience with suddenly ending up with magic they didn’t want, it was Merlin’s Uncle Phillip.  It was just too bad he’d been called to Throneworld right then.

“You do know that Aunt Lisa is older than you, right?” he couldn’t help but tease.

“Doesn’t matter.  She still looks like a bloody teenager.”

Merlin supposed that he was right about that. 

He stretched out his magic, feeling around the edges of the enchantments, trying to work out where one spell ended and another began.  Merlin knew that, with time, he could unpick what was done; however, without a doubt the crystal wouldn’t go back to its original state.  In doing what she’d done, Lucy had damaged the stone beyond fixing, and maybe that was for the best.

He made a mental note to locate the cave again and do something to keep anyone else from finding it.  It needed to be preserved, and not disturbed anymore.

Suddenly, the magic of the crystal began to push back against Merlin’s own probe.  He frowned and withdrew a little, and the power settled; but the moment he started again, the magic surged, and pain lashed through his head, light whiting out his vision.

Merlin didn’t know how he ended up against the wall, Owen, kneeling beside him and taking his pulse.  He wanted to shake the other man off, but he ached all over, not willing to move until he could catch his breath and his head stopped pounding fit to burst. 

“What the fuck was that?” Owen demanded. 

“Ow,” was all Merlin could say.

“I’m getting Medical down here – “

“It’s alright,” he managed to croak. 

“No, it’s not bloody alright!  That was a magical backlash, and they can be dangerous – “

The last thing Merlin wanted was Gaius down there, poking and prodding him and giving him the Disapproving Eyebrow.  “The crystal was just protecting itself from my prodding.  I’ll be just fine.”

“Your hearts are racing fit to burst – “

Merlin used the wall to push himself upright. The change in altitude had his head throbbing.  “I always have protective wards up.  They handled the surge.  It just surprised me, that’s all.”

He didn’t add that his magic was feeling tingly under his skin, like it was shifting and twisting and resettling back into place.  Whatever had caused the crystal’s enchantments to lash out like that, Merlin certainly didn’t want a repeat, but he also needed to figure this out.

He couldn’t risk it happening to someone else without the wards and shields that he had. 

“Let’s get back to work on this,” Merlin said determinedly.  “Tell me exactly what _you_ saw…”

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

**_2 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Imperial Throneworld_ **

****

“I am so sorry for you being blindsided like this,” Guinevere du Lac sighed.

“it’s not your fault,” Phillip reassured his former Second.  “They went behind your back, which was actually a fairly good strategic move on their part.”

After their visit with Empress Danielle and Crown Prince Joshua, he and Nathan had gone back to their rooms to relax before dinner.  To be honest, Phillip was tired; so much had been going on, and he honestly hadn’t been sleeping well. It was beginning to wear on him a little.  Plus, there were the nightmares that had been plaguing him since his torture at the hands of Lucy Cole and Grant Ward, and while they were much better he was still prone to them when he was particularly stressed.  Clint’s comforting presence was about the only thing that kept him in bed after particularly bad dreams, his mate’s soft singing calming him and allowing him to rest a little.

Now, he was on Throneworld, away from his mate, and he was absolutely positive there would be hardly any sleep for him tonight.  His brand of immortality wasn’t like Jack’s, who could go for days without sleep and still be able to function.  No, Phillip’s body, while being stronger and having more stamina that most humans, still needed to sleep at night.

He was so used to being curled up against a warm dragon body at night that sleeping without Clint had become problematic at best.  Since they’d received word that he wouldn’t be called before the Council until tomorrow – he would have waited to arrive if that was going to be the case – he was going to be appearing in front of at least one potential enemy with hardly any sleep. 

“Yes, but everyone in the Council knows about the Star Dragons and their Vow of Vengeance, and yet they decide to do this _now_.  I’ve been a Councillor for two decades.  I know how damned _sneaky_ a lot of these people are. I should have guessed something like this would happen.”

Guinevere would have looked apologetic if it wasn’t for the incandescent fury that was radiating from her like a dragon’s flame.  Lancelot, who was sitting beside her on the sofa, was also angry, only he was hiding it a little better.  Lance always did have a fairly good poker face.

Both now were nearly their hundreds.  Their current crop of children were grown and out in the universe now, and Phillip knew that it would perhaps be another couple of decades before Guinevere would be making noises about retiring for this reincarnation and settling down. 

There were times when Phillip wondered how many times certain people would reincarnate and recall their past lives before they would forget again and move on. 

“But they are,” Phillip allowed.  He leaned back in the chair he’d taken when he and Nathan had come back to their suite until they were called for dinner. “I should have considered that Benjamin Cole would have attempted some sort of move against Torchwood for what happened to his daughter, even though it was her own madness that had her ending up in Stormcage.”

“I think we have to assume that he has at least some passing familiarity with HYDRA,” Lance added.  “It’s possible he’s only doing it to get back at you for tossing Lucy in prison, but I don’t think we can take the chance.”

“No, you’re right.”  Lancelot was correct, of course.  Benjamin Cole could have been after his own version of vengeance, but how had he not known what his daughter had been planning? 

“This just sucks,” Nathan groused.  He’d taken the last chair, slouched in the seat with a leg dangling over one arm.  “It’s not Dad’s fault that Lucy was batshit crazy.”

That comment had Guinevere snorting indelicately.  “No,” she agreed, “but the man has to blame someone, and right now that’s Torchwood.  And, even if he’s not actively HYDRA, you have to think they’re influencing him to bring this up right now.”

“Something’s not right,” Phillip confessed.  “I can’t tell what it is, but I just have this feeling…” His instincts were practically screaming at him, and they had ever since he’d gotten the summons.  “I can’t ignore it.”

“I’ve always trusted your intuition,” Guinevere said.  “You’re a tactician, Phillip…you see several steps ahead of everyone else.”

He felt slightly embarrassed by her observation.  “Well, I’m certainly not seeing anything at the moment.”

“But you must be seeing _something_ , Dad,” Nathan said. “That’s what instinct is…seeing something but not recognising it, right?”

“You have a point, but I don’t think it’s a case of seeing something…it’s _not_ seeing something that’s bothering me.”

“Any way you look at it,” Guinevere replied, “it’s a power play, at its heart.  Cole, and whoever his cronies are, need a victory against Torchwood, and this is their chance.  We might not know what their play is, but we can bet there’s going to be one.”

“And there could very well be a member of HYDRA in the Council,” the immortal added.  “We have no way of telling if there is, and if they were once an enemy whose had their memories of a past life returned to them.  Luckily for us, they can’t do that anymore, but we just don’t know at this point who we can trust.”

“You can trust us,” Lancelot said, “and you can trust the Empress and the Consort.  You do have friends on the Council.”

“Believe it or not,” Guinevere said, “Councillor Redmond is actually in your corner.”

Phillip raised a questioning eyebrow at that statement.  He remembered Redmond’s demeanour during the comm call he’d gotten, and thought the man was an excellent actor if he managed to fool Phillip.

“I know what you’re thinking,” the reincarnated Queen of Camelot went on.  “You’re thinking he did a good job of proving he _wasn’t_ when he talked to you.  Actually, he wants to _prove_ to them all that you _can_ be trusted, and to do that he needed to get you here to answer questions.  He had to come on strongly in order to convince Cole and his group that he wanted to get to the bottom of things just as much as they do.”

Phillip don’t come right out and say it, but he wasn’t so certain that Guinevere was reading the situation correctly.  Peyton Redmond was one of those Councillors who felt that the Empire was a bit too over-extended, and that it would collapse sooner rather than later.  He also believed that handing power out to other organisations – such as Torchwood and the Adjudicators – weakened the Imperial hold even more.  The Councillor also was on record stating that Torchwood could easily usurp power whenever it wanted, and that the Empress was being just a bit naïve in trusting the Institute the way she did.  It was really just a continuation of the old rhetoric about Arthur and the Once and Future King legends that had cropped up around him.  Arthur hadn’t taken over, when a lot of people had believed he would.

Councillor Redmond hadn’t been very charitable with some of his words toward Phillip himself, based on his close relationship with the Imperial family, but then the immortal was used to that sort of thing and had ignored it.

In this regard, Redmond was very much like Cole, only Councillor Cole wanted to contract Imperial power back, to conserve it and not waste it on the many outer colonies and allies that counted on Imperial aid.  He’d once proposed that security forces be recalled deeper into Imperial territory, which would leave many of the frontier worlds helpless against the raiders and slavers that lurked beyond their borders.  Both Jack and Arthur had been incensed when they’d heard about it; Jack, because his own colony had been the victim of slavers, a group of which had taken his only brother and murdered his father; and Arthur, who’d been the instrument in getting better patrols and protection for those self-same colonies, on the basis of both personal history and the need to protect people who were unable to protect themselves. 

To be fair, Phillip hadn’t been all that happy about it, either.  Anyone with even the smallest bit of empathy would have been outraged at the idea of leaving innocents on their own against armed thugs, slavers, and kidnappers.

Cole’s proposal had died the fast death it had deserved, but that didn’t stop the man from railing against what he saw as waste of resources whenever he got the chance.

“We’ll know more when the Council convenes tomorrow,” he sighed.  “It’s stepping into a trap, but who’s setting the trap…I don’t know.”

“Maybe Merlin will be able to figure out how to use that crystal to find the people HYDRA’s already turned,” Nathan said hopefully. 

“I can’t count on that.  But what I _can_ count on are my own observations, and what I know about some of the Councillors involved.”

“And your friends,” Guinevere prompted.  “You have quite a few of them.  It’s just that they’re being drowned out by a very vocal minority at the moment.  Once you step into the Council chamber, you can get a better lay of the land, as it were.”

She was right.  Phillip knew he was walking into _something_ , but until he actually took those steps he wouldn’t have any idea of what that was. 

This really couldn’t have come at a worst time, and he couldn’t help but wonder at that.  They’d struck a blow against HYDRA, and now this was happening. 

No, Phillip was now convinced that HYDRA was behind this somehow.  He simply needed a way to prove it.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

**_2 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Ddraig Llyn_ **

****

Ianto awoke slowly, feeling languid as he rose out of dreams of his family, not wanting to wake up yet but feeling as if he was being watched in his sleep.

He was surprised to find that it was his daughter, Morgan, who was doing the watching.

The dragon raised his head, smiling at his talented child as she sat on the floor, her eyes on him as she hummed softly.  Ever since Morgan had been a child she’d been like that, humming at times as if the music simply couldn’t stay inside.  It really should have not been a surprise when she’d become the professional singer in the family. 

She wasn’t wearing her usual bright colours, dressed instead in sombre dark blues.  Her dark hair was hanging loose around her face, and Ianto could see Jack in her, in the dimple in her chin and blue eyes at were made even darker by the clothing she had on.  Still, there was a lot of himself in her, and even after so many centuries it still amazing the dragon that he and Jack had gotten the family they’d never expected to have. 

Morgan stopped humming, giving him a sweet smile.  “You alright, Tad?”

Ianto thought about that.  He knew what he’d discovered has shocked him, and had brought back a lot of memories he would have preferred to remain in the past.  It had been shock, plain and simple, that had struck him when he’d discovered that the Dragon Slayer that had murdered Sabrina and had hurt Rowena and Skylar was the same one who’d helped kill his first family.  He’d reacted to that badly, but then no one could blame him for it.

He was going to have to thank Anwyn for getting him home.  He would never have been able to do it on his own.

Ianto mentally prodded the painful recollections of that day, when he’d lost his family.  It would always hurt, and this didn’t help that, but he thought he was going to be fine at some point. 

As soon as he got really angry about it.  Which would most likely happen as soon as he got his equilibrium back.

He sighed.  “I…will be.”  He sat up.  “When did you get back?”

She shrugged.  “About an hour ago.  Anwyn told me what happened, and I volunteered to sit with you while she went to get supper started.  You know I have absolutely no talent at cooking.”

This was true.  It was as if Morgan didn’t have any other room within her for any talent but her music.  Not that Ianto would ever stop teasing her about the time she’d burned boiling water…

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Not sure.  Several hours at least.  Long enough for Dad to go to Hubworld and back, and for you to miss lunch.  And don’t think Anwyn didn’t clue me in about you not eating lately.”  She waggled a finger at him in admonishment. 

To avoid rolling his eyes at her, Ianto reached within himself and triggered the change back into his human form.  He could understand that everyone was worried about him and honestly, he should have known they’d all turn into overprotective hoverers when the time was right, but he really didn’t think this latest blow would set him back, at least in that department.

“I was shocked,” he said as he stood, “but I’m going to be fine.”  At her sceptical look, he added, “I promise.”

“Alright.”  She also stood, stepping forward to hug him. 

Ianto returned the hug gratefully, glad that the last of his children were finally home.  He’d been worried about both her and James, being out there and a possible target for the Dragon Slayer, but they’d possibly been the safest of all his children, as they were public figures and were constantly surrounded by a host of others who would have been more than willing to look out for them both.  Still, they were now back in the valley where they would truly be safe.

“I’m so glad to see you,” he murmured into her hair.  Morgan’s arms tightened around him in response.

Eventually, they broke apart and, arm-in-arm, headed downstairs.  It was a full house, and not for the first time Ianto thought that, perhaps, he and Jack should have designed a larger place when they’d rebuilt the old Green Dragon Inn.  And this wasn’t even everyone, which made it even more amazing.

It had Ianto wondering, once again, what exactly they’d need to do in order to have their own planet.  Although leaving this place would be incredibly difficult.  It had been his home for so very long, and even with a break of six hundred years when he and Jack were offworld Ddraig Llyn had still been in his heart and soul.

Something was smelling wonderful, and Ianto heard his stomach grumble.  It had Morgan laughing, and it earned them both surprised glances from everyone in the room.

“I guess we don’t have to worry about you not eating,” Gareth teased. 

Ianto did roll his eyes then.  He adored his family…even if they could be a bunch of mother hens.

“Ianto!”

The dragon turned toward his mate’s call.  Jack was striding out of the dining area, where he must have come from the kitchen.  He’d shucked that horrible black coat – and while Ianto did understand why Jack had worn it, he was glad that it was gone for the time being – and was in his shirt sleeves, a tea towel draped over one shoulder.  Anwyn must have roped him into helping with supper…and there she was, right on her Dad’s heels. 

Jack reached out and Ianto had no trouble at all stepping into his arms.  Jack wrapped him up in a fierce hug.  It never ceased to amaze him at just how safe he felt in his mate’s embrace.

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured Jack quietly.  “I had a bit of a shock, but I’m better now.”

Jack didn’t need to say anything for Ianto to figure out that he thought the dragon was fudging the truth a bit, but he let it slide.  Instead, he rested his face in the crook of Jack’s neck, inhaling deeply of the pheromones that he’d become so familiar with over the centuries.  He’d never get tired of that scent. 

“Hey,” Anwyn interrupted eventually, sounding fondly exasperated, “give the rest of us a chance, Dad!”

Jack laughed, pulling away.  Their eldest was standing there, hands on her hips, giving them both such a glare that belied the love that was shining from her eyes. 

She wasn’t the only one standing.

Every single member of their family that was currently present in the house was, as well.  Ianto let his eyes rest on each of them, noticing who was missing among those present. 

Jack must have noticed, because he said, “I’ve convinced the Doctor to corral everyone from Hubworld and bring them along in the TARDIS in time for supper.  Nicole, Rory, and Lisa are all outside, being hovered over by Mom and the Great Dragons.  Clint’s up with Skylar – “

“Who’s sleeping,” their son stated, entering the lounge from the hallway.  Clint was carrying little Daisy…or, more truthfully, Daisy was clinging to his shoulder and laughing.  She nearly overbalanced when she saw Ianto, reaching out toward him and chirping, “Gata!” in what was very much _not_ an inside voice.

Ianto reached out for her, and the little dragon practically leaped into his arms.  He stared at her as she nestled into his grasp, blue eyes sparkling and her tiny tongue poked out between her rows of sharp, baby teeth.  “Did she just…?” he asked in amazement.  “Another word?”

“She did,” Clint said proudly.  “She knows ‘Da’, ‘Gada’, and ‘home’, too, although I understand she can’t quite get the ‘m’ down yet.  Although, from what Phillip told me, she called him Da first, and I’m denying that I’m jealous.  Skylar’s been trying to get her to say his name, but all she can manage is ‘Ska’.”

Ianto couldn’t help the smile that bloomed.  Dragons learned to speak and fly pretty quickly, but even this was a bit faster than any of the other children.  He had to wonder if Clint had been right, back when he’d been carrying her, that she’d have Phillip’s ice magic.  The white on her scales seemed to indicate that, but at the same time it wasn’t the gold that properly announced a magic user to the family.

Except for Robyn.  As far as anyone knew, she hadn’t a lick of magic to her name.  Which was fine with her; she had a hard enough time dealing with her dragon form on good days.  Skylar had taken it upon himself to tell her just how fabulous her golden dragon form was, and Ianto only hoped it would eventually work.

“Henry and the twins with Rowena?” he asked.  They’d taken a house nearby, on the side of the mountain that had once been Ianto’s old aerie and what was now called the Mating Cave, while Rowena healed from the attack on her. 

Jack nodded.  “We’ll take their supper up to them.  We certainly have enough to feed an army.”

He didn’t need to say that it had to be, as dragons ate quite a lot.  “I hope it wasn’t just the two of you cooking.” 

That earned him several outraged exclamations from the gathered children.

Anwyn rolled her eyes.  “As if I’d let these lazy yobbos get away with sitting on their arses while Dad and I slaved away!  Well, Clint has an excuse…”

“I did offer,” her brother retorted, “but you shooed me upstairs.”

“Like you’d be able to get much done with a baby in your arms,” she countered.  As if she understood, Daisy laughed and babbled something in the baby-speak that the Doctor swore he understood. 

“Point.”

Ianto laughed.  It felt good. 

“It’s almost done,” Jack reported.  “If I could get some help with plates and drinks…?”

That thinly veiled order got him Gareth, Emlyn, and Morgan volunteering. 

“And Tad will make the coffee,” Anwyn suggested…no, she’d inherited that tone from her Dad, and used it when she wanted someone to do something they might not usually want to do.

However, it was wasted on Ianto, who certainly didn’t mind making coffee for the ravening hoard.  He passed Daisy back to her Dad, who tried to fly to Clint but failed miserably, and he caught her before she took a header onto the floor.  The little one seemed to think it was hilarious.  Honestly, Ianto hadn’t heard a child laugh so much as Daisy did.  “And tea for Pryce, of course,” he teased. “Although how one of _my_ children turned out not to like coffee I’ll never know…”

“Thank you, Tad,” Pryce said graciously, grinning.  She was used to the comment by now, and had even once admitted that it was a mystery to her, as well. 

“Does someone want to go out and fetch in the others?” Ianto suggested.  “Because your Dad suggested that the Doctor bring everyone by TARDIS, so he might not show up before breakfast…”

“He’s gotten a lot better at piloting,” Jack defended the Time Lord.  “They’ll be here.”

Ianto shook his head in amazement.  There’d been a time when Jack would never have come to the Doctor’s defence, and he was glad that they’d all put what had happened during That Year behind them and had moved on.  The dragon quite liked this regeneration, and the Doctor was a part of their family now, one that he was happy to know. 

“Let’s get everything ready for supper,” he said, instead of speaking out loud what he’d been thinking.  “I’m starving, so I’m sure that means everyone else is fading away from hunger…”

That got him a stampede – and Ianto was convinced that three children, even ones as old as Gareth, Emlyn, and Morgan, could very well be a stampede – out toward the kitchen.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Clint head outside, as Daisy was once again climbing him like a tree to perch on his shoulder, her tiny claws gripping the material of his eldest son’s sweater tightly as she curled herself around her Dad’s neck. 

Of all their family, only Cadi had been that much of a climber.  Ianto hoped that wasn’t a sign of things to come; Cadi had been all over the place when she was growing up, finding the best places to perch and often jumping down on people, mostly Anwyn. 

He had no doubt it was going to be extremely entertaining in the Coulson-Jones household the older Daisy got.

“Good to know you’re hungry,” Jack murmured, stepping close and wrapping an arm around Ianto.  “I’ve been worried this might…”

He didn’t finish, but then he didn’t need to.  Ianto knew what his mate was trying to say.  “I was in shock,” he admitted, “but this didn’t hit me as hard, I think.  Well, that’s not true…just wait into the rage sets in.  And it will.  But for now, I think I’m still in a little bit of denial, if that makes sense.”

He was certain he wasn’t explaining it well, but Jack seemed to understand.  “I thought you might want to follow this lead up, so I’ve already asked Anwyn to go along with you.  Alyce and Robyn have volunteered to tag along as well.  The more, the merrier, especially in this case.  I’d feel better if you had a team with you when you go Slayer hunting.”

He could see Jack’s point.  He did fully intend on attempting to track down the Dragon Slayer, and he was hoping to go back to the British Museum and speak with Dr Dorian again, in hopes of getting a solid lead.  Even though he knew he could be excused for the sheer shock and horror of what he’d learned Ianto felt as if he should have made a better showing, especially in front of the pair of detectives from Luna. 

Speaking of the two coppers… “Has anyone contacted Detectives Walsh and Shraeger and let them know what was going on?” Both had proved to be invaluable in their war against HYDRA; they’d been the ones to find their one clue to the identity of the Dragon Slayer. 

While a part of him wanted to keep the two policemen out of harms’ way, the dragon thought that might prove to be hard to do.  He had experience with the police, and the really good ones tended to go at their cases with everything they had.  Perhaps, if they were kept in the loop a bit, it might mitigate anything that might happen in the course of the investigation.

It could have been so very easy to play the Torchwood card and keep them out of it.  However, this wasn’t Torchwood business, and Ianto was savvy enough about protocol to know they really hadn’t had a leg to stand on if they’d even attempted to throw their weight around.

It would have also added to the fire that Phillip was trying to put out on Throneworld…not that they’d known that at the time.   This way they could at least pretend there was an official investigation and that Torchwood wasn’t involved.

And, technically, it wasn’t.  Phillip had taken leave.  But he was smudging things by using Torchwood resources – in the shapes of Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz – to help study the artefacts they’d brought back from Avalon.  Still, Jemma and Fitz were practically family, and Ianto was well aware that there was really no way to keep them out of this, especially with Phillip and Clint so heavily tangled up in events.

The faint sounds of the TARDIS arriving outside came to them as they made their way toward the kitchen.  Jack looked smug, and Ianto simply rolled his eyes at his mate. 

The dining room used to have one long table in it, but with the size of their family now Jack and Ianto had decided to redecorate, and it now more closely resembled the dining area that had once been a part of the original inn.  A dozen tables were positioned around the room, with places for six at each table.  That would be enough for today, even depending on who the Doctor managed to wrangle into the TARDIS.

Out the large window Ianto caught sight of Lisa, in her human form, talking with Rory and Nicole, with Samara and Clint standing close by, Daisy very interested in proceedings.  The pair of wizards were helping Lisa gain control of her newly awakened magic; their daughter hadn’t been all that accepting of it, and Ianto knew that Phillip had meant to sit her down and talk to her about it; he knew exactly what it was like to be given magic against his will, and had hoped to help Lisa deal a little with what Morgause had done to her.

But he’d been called away to Throneworld, leaving Nicole and Rory to do what they could to help Lisa.

It had only been a couple of days.  From where Ianto was watching, Lisa still didn’t look all that happy, not that he could blame her.  But the two grandchildren were being unbelievably patient with her, and Ianto was so proud of them for taking on the task of teaching Lisa about her new abilities. 

He was about to continue on his way to the kitchen when Merlin appeared. 

Lisa’s relationship with Merlin had always been a little touchy, but then that was understandable.  After all, she carried the reincarnated soul and memories of Morgana le Fay, and Morgana and Merlin had been enemies back in their Camelot days.  That was all water under the bridge, as it were; especially after Avalon, when Merlin had so easily accepted the new status quo and had promised to do his best to help Lisa through it. 

“They’ll be in in a second,” Jack reassured him.  “The coffee machine is calling your name.”  He cupped a hand to his ear.  “Can you hear it?  _Ianto…come and use me, Ianto…”_

The dragon barely resisted the urge to smack his mate.  “Yes, yes…I’m coming.”

He’d turned and was a good few feet from the kitchen when a loud, surprised roar had him spinning in place and staring out the window…

At the sudden appearance of a strange dragon just outside.

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter today! I'm home due to recovery from a minor surgical procedure and thought I wouldn't leave you too much suspense.

 

**_2 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Ddraig Llyn_ **

****

The Doctor had found that it was remarkably easy to get everyone together and into the TARDIS for the trip to Ddraig Llyn.

Of course, he had Rhys to help with that. 

He quite liked Rhys Williams.  It was astonishing that the man had travelled through the Old Cardiff Rift to the future, and had ended up finding Jack and Ianto once more.  From what he’d been able to discover Rhys hadn’t had a very easy time of it at first, but he’d come through to the other side and had ended up marrying Jack’s mother, for Rassilon’s sake.  He’d found home and family in a time that had been alien to him, and had thrived. 

Oh, humans really were quite his favourite species.

Well, they used to be, until he’d gotten himself adopted by a clan of dragons that had forgiven him for being such an arse back in his last regeneration.

Between himself and Rhys, they gathered up everyone on Hubworld – that included Jemma and Fitz, who’d protested about being included until Arthur had put his foot down and had officially invited them – and back to the valley in time for dinner.

He hoped.

But then, River was piloting with him, and the TARDIS laughed at him as he darted about the console. 

Merlin started at hearing the laughter, looking confused.  “Why can I hear her so clearly now?”

That was a question the Doctor really didn’t want to answer, and so he simply shrugged and kept doing what he was doing.  He knew he’d have to explain at some point, but he really preferred to keep it to himself for the time being.  Merlin was just now healing from his ordeal, and the guilt he’d been carrying around after the events at the Library, and the last thing the Time Lord wanted to do was burden him with the knowledge that the TARDIS might have also been a recipient of some of the wayward magic that Lucy had been conjuring and that Merlin had sucked up.

He could tell his son wasn’t going to let it rest, but the TARDIS chimed its arrival and kept him from pushing it.

“Everyone out!” the Doctor exclaimed, opening the door for the crowd in the console room. 

That announcement actually earned him a few grumbles.  There were several people there who hadn’t travelled by TARDIS before, and he could tell that his time machine was enamoured of Fitz and Jemma, and they were just as enamoured by her.  Their race, being a bit more telepathic than most, had obviously picked up on just how amazing the TARDIS was, and he had to actually push them out of the door to get them to leave, promising the pair a trip whenever things were peaceful once more.

He'd keep the fact that he was considering stealing Phillip’s favourite scientists for a short while to himself.

The trio of Owen Harper, Suzie Costello, and Diane Holmes weren’t quite as enthralled, but then Suzie and Diane had travelled by TARDIS once before, after the battle at Avalon.  He’d given them a ride back to the nearest transmat, and while it had been a really short hop both women had been very much taken by his ship.  Owen, though, simply snorted and looked bored. 

Really, it was _so_ hard to impress some people. 

Ddraig Llyn was chilly this time of year, but there was no more snow on the ground.  The Doctor, although the cold didn’t bother him, shrugged on his coat and left the TARDIS after everyone had gone.  He was back in his purple one; his black coat had vanished, and he suspected it was River who’d trashed it somewhere when he’d removed it in preparation for take-off and had replaced it with the familiar version.  

He had to admit that Ddraig Llyn was a special place.  It was quite literally timeless, in a way that he’d seen in only a handful of other places.  While, on the whole, the Time Lords were an unmagical lot, even he could feel the power in the valley, thanks to the presence of the Great Dragons.  It was a peace that rivalled the Eye of Orion, without the positive ions that permeated the atmosphere of that particular planet.

The TARDIS had materialised in its usual place on the village green, the grass still lush despite it being winter.  The Doctor knew that had to do with the magic of the Earth Dragon, working alongside his fellows to make the land healthy and vibrant all year round.

Everyone had trooped toward the former Green Dragon Inn, except for Merlin who’d joined Nicole, Rory, and Lisa, who were being watched over by an attentive Samara, along with Clint and little Daisy. Rhys had been drawn to her side like a moth to a flame, embracing her and whispering something in her ear, making her laugh.  Even after being together for so many years, those two still seemed to be in their honeymoon period.

As he watched, the Doctor saw Merlin suddenly stiffen.  The Time Lord frowned at his son’s sudden stillness, and was making his way over to the small group when Merlin jerked forward, reaching out to take Nicole’s hand in his.

Even as far away as the Doctor was, he could still hear Merlin speak a single word of magic.

And…

Nicole _changed_.

A golden glow surrounded her, very much like the brightness that heralded a transformation from human to dragon.  However, Nicole didn’t have her dragon form yet, so she shouldn’t be…

The Doctor’s mouth fell open, his mind unable to finish that thought as the magic faded, revealing a dragon in its place.

Startled, Nicole reared back, roaring in shock.  Merlin had tumbled to the ground as Nicole moved her miraculously gained bulk away, shaking herself like a dog would, the golden antlers that had grown up onto her head nearly overbalancing her.

Nicole’s new shape was just like her twin’s, only in opposite.  Her scales were the purest silvery-white from snout to tip of tail, the antlers and a deep black ruff at her head and fanning out from the end of her tail the only break in that brilliance.  There were delicate webs between the clawed fingers and toes, and the double-pupiled eyes had morphed into the cat-slitted eyes that were more usual in dragons. 

But Nicole was a _dragon_ , and that should have been impossible.

Nicole had been born with a human form.  The Harkness-Joneses that had happened to only gained their dragon shapes once they’d found their mates. 

But Merlin was already Arthur’s mate.

However, the Doctor was positive that something else had happened, and the source of that occurrence was currently laying on the ground, staring up at his cousin in surprised dismay.  It struck him that his son had no real idea of just what he’d done, and the Doctor darted forward to squat beside him, resting a hand on a trembling shoulder.

Rory had changed into his own dragon form, the better to calm his cousin.  Lisa was a little slower but she did the same, and together the younger dragons were touching Nicole, trying to keep her from freaking out more than she already was.  Nicole seemed to be reacting to their attempts, and she stopped thrashing long enough for Samara and Rhys to get out of the way, and for the Doctor to drag Merlin out from under those formidable talons.

They’d gained quite an audience.  Every single member of the clan that was in Ddraig Llyn and could move were out on the lawn, and Ianto was trying to keep them all back, out of a real fear of Nicole panicking even more. 

Clint, however, stepped right up to his daughter, needing to be with her.

He handed baby Daisy off to Samara, who accepted the wide-eyed little child easily, letting Clint get closer to his oldest daughter.  “Hey, sweetheart,” he called soothingly. 

Nicole’s head jerked toward the sound of her father’s voice.  “Dad?” she cried.  “What happened?  How can I be a dragon?  I haven’t found my mate yet!”

There was still that thin edge of panic in her voice.  The Doctor could certainly understand; change was a scary thing, especially when it was so completely unexpected.  And this was about as unexpected as anything could be, because Nicole was right:  she hadn’t found her mate yet, and this should not have happened.

The Doctor knew, though…somehow, Merlin had done this.  And he had a sneaking suspicion about it.

Rory moved aside, and Clint took his place, morphing into his own, purple, dragon shape.  He coiled his neck around hers, covering her a little with his wings, as if he could somehow hide her from prying eyes.  “We’ll figure it out,” he murmured.  “But wow…you’re gorgeous, you know that?”

Nicole looked down at herself.  “I look like Nathan, don’t I?” she asked, the panic being overtaken by awe.

“Pretty much, only like a negative.  Your antlers though…they’re gold, like your magic.”

“But how did this happen?” she asked again.  “Oh, I have webbed fingers still…”  She was holding up a single hand, claws spread wide.

“I think I might know,” the Doctor answered, stepping forward now that Nicole didn’t look as if she’d trample him by accident.

No, he _didn’t_ twitch under the weight of every eye in the valley staring at him.

“Please explain,” Ianto requested, coming to stand next to the Time Lord.  Jack was with him, staring so hard as if he could see into the Doctor’s brain.

He was about to put his son in the proverbial spotlight, but after what just occurred he really didn’t have much choice.  “I suspect it has something to do with Merlin’s Dragonlord abilities.”

Merlin was stunned.  “But I’ve touched Nicole hundreds of times, and my magic never reacted like this…” his voice petered out, as a thoughtful expression took over his pale face. 

“It was that fucking crystal,” Owen spoke up.  He pushed himself past the crowd, joining them. 

“Wait,” Ianto interrupted.  “The crystal we took from Avalon?”

“I thought we were going to set that aside for now to focus on the knife?” Jack demanded.

“Yeah, well…we decided it might be useful to see if we can rework it so we could find the souls it had been used on,” the former Torchwood medic argued.  “What with Coulson being on Throneworld and it maybe being some sort of trap…”

That did make sense.  But something had gone wrong obviously.  “What did the crystal do?” the Doctor asked.

“I was probing it with my magic,” Merlin admitted, “and it…triggered something.  There was a pushback from the crystal’s own magic.  I didn’t think it had done anything at the time…but now, I’m not so sure.  It was…” he shook his head, but it wasn’t in denial; it looked like he was trying to gather his thoughts into something more coherent.   

“Yeah,” Owen added, “there was some weird light that came from it.  Merlin here ended up against the wall.”

“That’s what happened to me,” Lisa interrupted.  She’d changed back into her human form, the better to interact with everyone else.  “There was a light, and suddenly I could feel the magic come roaring back.  It affected Grandtad Rhys as well.”

“It did,” Rhys confirmed.

“So,” Jack said, “you’re telling us the crystal did something to your magic?”

“He’s always been able to call to dragons,” the Doctor hastened to put in.  “I’d say whatever happened _strengthened_ that magic so that Merlin can call a dragon form out of anyone who has one.”  He shrugged.  “I’m not a wizard by any stretch of the imagination…”

“No, but you might be right.”  Owen ran a hand through his vibrant red hair.  “Look, we know that crystal can pull out forgotten lives and it also brought out Lisa’s magic…even though this life for her doesn’t have any.  Who can say what it will do to abilities we already have?”

“And I was able to tap into the Dragonlord magic, back before Merlin was technically reborn,” the Doctor pointed out.  He’d done it to prove to the then-Emrys Gryffudd that magic was real.  “If I can do it with my limited mental abilities…”

“And he’s always been able to call out the baby dragons from their shells,” Rory added.

 _“This appears to be the case,”_ the Earth Dragon said from out of nowhere.

Yes, the Great Dragons were bound to show up after all the uproar; all four were hovering over the gathering, and as one they settled down on the ground, sitting practically at attention as they all regarded Merlin.

 _“Something has subtly changed the Dragonlord magic,”_ the Dragon of Air continued.  _“We could sense it the moment it occurred.”_

“It…felt like that, yeah,” Merlin admitted.  “But it was instinct.  Like, suddenly the magic just couldn’t be contained.  It took me by surprise.”  He looked up at Nicole.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t even know I could do it until…”  He hunched into himself, as if he was expecting the worst.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him.  “I’ve always been a little jealous that Nathan was born a dragon and I wasn’t.  It’s just…a surprise, that’s all, and I panicked.”  She chuckled.  “I love you, Merlin, but I was going to have some choice words to say if you were my mate.”

That had Merlin chuckling, although it was a weak thing.  “Arthur gets jealous, you know.”

“I do not,” Arthur denied, from where he was standing back with the rest of the family.

“Yes you do,” Clint called back.

“You really do,” River agreed, laughing.

 _“Indeed,”_ even the Fire Dragon was getting in on the act.

The banter seemed to break the tension that had crawled up and all over the valley, disturbing the peace.  The Doctor was glad; he hated seeing Merlin hurt like that, especially when it wasn’t his fault.

Well, it might have been…after all, he’d been the one to fool around with that crystal.  But how could anyone have foreseen something like this happen?

“Why don’t we get everyone inside for dinner?” Ianto suggested.  “Nicole, sweetheart…you need help changing back?”

The newest dragon of the family looked disappointed.  “I might need a little help…”

“I got this,” Clint said confidently. 

 _“We will be glad to aid you as well,”_ the Earth Dragon offered.

“Why doesn’t everyone go and leave us for a second?” Clint went on.  “It won’t take long to talk Nicole through her first transformation.”  He turned to Samara.  “Gran, you can watch after Daisy?”

Samara was holding the youngest member of the Jones Clan in an almost death grip; Daisy seemed determined to escape and go to her father and older sister.  She was chattering up a storm, and the Doctor grinned.  “Where did she learn that sort of language?  It has to be you, Clint, because I seriously doubt that Phillip says that sort of thing in the presence of his children.”

“You are _not_ able to understand her,” Clint scoffed. “And you have not heard my mate all up in arms over something.  He’s worse than a docks’ worker.”

The Doctor shrugged, unperturbed that he wasn’t being believed.  It wouldn’t have been the first time that someone had doubted his ability to speak baby.  “If you say so.”  He ended up next to Samara, staring down at the wriggling child.  “Now, you hush.  Your sister’s been through a bit of a shock, and she needs to work through it.  Let’s go inside and your Dad and Nicole will be in shortly.”  He chucked her under the chin, and the little dragon girl laughed, grasping one of his fingers with a small claw.

“Doca,” she cooed.

 No, he _wasn’t_ charmed by that.  Not at all.  

“There’s another word to add to the list,” Jack chuckled.

“Since you’re so good with her,” Samara teased, “then you can take charge.” 

With that, she passed the child to the Doctor, who was surprised at the gesture but managed not to drop her.  Daisy twisted out of his grip and clambered up onto his shoulder, tiny claws grasping his hair and collar, tail draping around his neck and snagging on his bow tie. 

“She almost matches your coat,” Ianto commented lightly.

The Doctor was almost too scared to move.  He’d seen Daisy do the same to others, but they weren’t him and, to be honest, he didn’t want to be the one to have her fall off of. 

“Come on,” Jack urged, laughing.  “She’ll be fine.”

With that encouragement, the Doctor began walking cautiously into the house, surrounded by family, Daisy rubbing her cheek against his and talking his ear off.

He listened to her intently as she nattered on, and he couldn’t help the smile at her innocent, happy words.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

**_2 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Armstrong Dome_ **

**_The Moon_ **

****

Casey Shraeger had long ago realised that her partner was a very unusual person.

It didn’t hurt that she liked him that way.

For example, take the small diner Walsh owned. 

It was a hole-in-the-wall place called _The_ _Stage_.  Walsh only opened it when he wanted to which, with their schedule, was at most once or twice a week.  It was in a more run-down area of the Armstrong Dome, in an older section made up of small shops and the occasional _bodega_ , all of them with residences in their upper floors. 

Walsh, himself, lived in the back room of _The Stage_ , perfectly happy with the cramped accommodations.

Casey had one of the very few keys to the place, which she used to let herself in.

 _The Stage_ itself was not much more than a cramped kitchen and a long counter with stools bolted to the tile floor.  The first time Casey had been there, back when she and Walsh had first been partnered together, she’d wondered if the place had ever been inspected, but now that she knew her partner much better Casey had seen just how clean Walsh kept the diner; it was just so old that most of the surfaces and the floor itself was chipped and faded, giving it a slightly grungy appearance. 

She locked the door behind her.  Walsh hadn’t put the sign on outside, which meant he was officially closed.  The front was empty, but she could hear banging around in the kitchen, and the smell of coffee wafted up from the carafe in the stainless prep area beyond the counter.

Casey took her usual stool, right smack dab at the centre of the counter, and waited for her partner to appear.

It didn’t take long.

Walsh, down to a t-shirt with an apron tied around his waist to protect his dress trousers, came out from the kitchen area, a plate in his hand.  Casey hoped that he wasn’t going to offer her any, because Jason Walsh’s idea of cuisine was completely at odds with the rest of the universe’s.

Oh, he could cook…when he wanted to.  He’d once made her a meatloaf that had practically melted in her mouth and a beef stew that had been nearly orgasmic. 

But most of the time, Walsh liked his flavours a little…unconventional.  Like using hard candies in his omelettes, and there was that time he’d experimented with Zygon nutritional fluid in a cake.  And she didn’t want to even _think_ about when he’d somehow gotten a hold of that green meat from who the hells knew where…

Walsh gave her a smile as he set the plate down…luckily, not in front of her.  “Sorry, should have guessed you’d be here.  I only made enough for one…”

She waved off the apology.  “I stopped on my way…before I knew I was actually going to show up.”

“More for me, then.” 

Walsh turned and got them both coffee.  His coffee wasn’t that bad, especially if it was a fresh pot.  That didn’t mean that Casey _didn’t_ doctor it up with an unhealthy amount of cream and sweetener.

“So,” he said as he tucked into his supper, “what do you think?”

Casey didn’t even need to have him clarify that question.  “Well,” she mused, “we’ve seen a lot of weird stuff on the job,” and wasn’t _that_ an understatement, “but I think a reincarnated serial killer takes the cake.”

After Jones had pulled his wobbly back at the British Museum, and after the two of them had gotten back to the precinct, they’d received a call from Dr Gareth Jones – who, if Casey was honest, she’d wanted to climb like a tree when she’d first interviewed him, back at Hospitaler Tower…so sue her, she might have been taken but she had eyes, damnit. 

He’d kindly explained what had happened, and if it had come from anyone else Casey might have dismissed it as being just a little bit nuts.  But Dr Jones had seemed such a steady, intelligent sort, so him telling the two of them about how the owner of that ring had been the reincarnation of the very person who’d slaughtered Second Jones’ family back thousands of years ago sounded completely and utterly plausible.

It hadn’t hurt that there were actually a few academic papers out there on the subject once she’d gotten into the system and checked. 

Doctor Jones had asked them both to be careful, but encouraged them to keep looking into things.  He’d said as an aside that what they’d uncovered had been more than anyone else had been able to find, and to keep up the good work.  Casey had gotten the impression that he didn’t think they’d be very successful, but was perfectly willing to have them try.

Yes, it was too bad she was taken.  Maybe she could talk Davis into a threesome…

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Shraeger,” Walsh teased.  “There’s no way Davis would consent to a threesome.”

“How do you do that?” she exclaimed.  Sometimes she wondered if Walsh was psychic, although it wasn’t in his file and he denied it whenever she accused him of it.

He was smirking.  “It was written all over your face.  And your pupils were dilated. Oh, and the pheromones…”

“Fuck you,” she said without any heat. 

“And I just said that Davis wouldn’t consent to a threesome…even if I was inclined to cheat on my own significant other.”

Such was the trust that Walsh had for her that Casey was one of the very few people who knew that her partner was sleeping with Allison Beaumont.  That wasn’t exactly frowned upon, but having a relationship with a fellow cop could lead to all sorts of things, up to and including investigations by Internal Affairs and accusations of conflict of interest.  It was just a good thing that Casey was Walsh’s partner, and not Beaumont. Now, _that_ would have been a completely different can of worms.

Casey just rolled her eyes at him.  She really didn’t need to comment any further on _that_ particular subject.

“We’ll keep on checking into things,” she said instead, “but I’ll be honest…I’m not sure how much farther we’re going to get in this, even if Dr Jones has confidence in our abilities.”

Walsh nodded, taking a bite of his supper.  It looked like some sort of steak, but Casey wasn’t sure about the sauce; it was an odd, purple colour.  He waited to chew and swallow, then added, “The only thing we _can_ do is see about getting some sort of lead on anyone who might have been hanging around the campus or the ap Llyn-Morgan house before the attack.  The security cameras in the area have been a bust, though; plus, pretty much everyone in the neighbourhood were instructors and were currently in class at the time.”

It seemed like a dead end, which wasn’t going to thrill their bosses.  There was a great deal of pressure to solve the case of the attack on such a well-loved professor, even if the rumours floating around were claiming that both Professor ap Llyn and Professor Morgan had quit in disgust when the University wouldn’t let them take indefinite mourning leave. 

If that was true, then Casey thought that was just a bit shitty, and so did Walsh. 

Casey rested her head on the counter, sighing gustily.  She felt Walsh pat her on the shoulder in comfort.  “This is gonna be a case we don’t solve, I just know it,” she moaned.

“Pretty much, yeah.” 

Walsh seemed to be taking it in stride, but Casey knew how it grated on her partner not to bring the criminal into justice.  She felt the same way…it sucked.  They’d developed a really good solve rate ever since they’d been put together, and to fail was something she just didn’t like to even consider.

But, there really wasn’t anything they could do about it. 

As much as she didn’t want to admit it, this case was beyond them.  This was something on the Imperial level, and they were ground-level cops in a precinct on the Moon that a lot of their peers in other precincts kind of thought of as a bit of a joke.  Director Harkness had explained that what had occurred had been an act of war against the Star Dragons, which made their involvement even more redundant, despite the Director himself contacting their sergeant and wanting them to keep up the investigation.

Which, was nice, and Casey was happy that someone as important as Director Jack Harkness had faith in their abilities, but was pretty damned useless really.

“Well,” she straightened up, “I’m gonna head home.  I need a bath and maybe I can talk Davis into a massage.”  He did have the most _amazing_ hands…

Walsh shook his head at her.  “Like he’d say no.”

Well, he would, but just not in this circumstance if Casey asked nicely. And promised sex. 

Sex sounded good, too.  Not that she was going to say that out loud.  It wasn’t like she needed to, anyway.

Tiredly, Casey climbed off her stool.  It had been a long day, and that was even without the trip to Earth that morning.  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Walsh waved his fork at her as she left.

Casey made sure the diner door was locked behind her.

Hands in the pockets of her jacket, Casey made her way toward the transport station.  While Walsh lived out on the fringes of Armstrong Dome, her own home was more centrally located.  When she’d become a cop despite her parents’ wishes Casey had wanted to be as far away from her family as she could get and still be on the Moon.  Her family was quite wealthy, and she could have used any of that money to live wherever she wanted, but she’d chosen an area that was close to the precinct and yet not fancy.  She quite loved her little flat, especially since Davis had agreed to move in with her.

Night was a different thing on the Moon than it was on Earth.  The lighting spaced out on the dome’s infrastructure meant that it really didn’t get all that dark; the lights did dim a little, but that was the only indicator that night was approaching.  That and the lack of foot traffic, since everyone who wasn’t working a late shift would have been home by now.

The street was relatively deserted as Casey approached the station, in order to catch the transport back toward her side of town.  There were a few people out and about, and they pretty much ignored her as she walked toward the entrance to the station.  She passed by a couple of stores that were still open, and she glanced inside as she passed, but not really seeing what was going on inside.

She’d hoped speaking to Walsh would have given her some peace of mind about the case, and it had…but it had also made her realise that this was going to go into the ‘loss’ section of the mental file she kept on all their investigations.  There was no way they were going to win this one, and she could only hope that when everything was said and done that they’d be informed, in order to close the file on the case. 

It certainly wouldn’t be the first time that she and Walsh hadn’t had any control over a case, and it really didn’t get any easier.

A rather large, burly man held the door of the transit station open for her, and Casey fell back onto the politeness she’d been taught by her mother to thank him, then stepped inside.  The interior of the station was a bit more crowded than outside had been; there were at least two dozen people waiting on the next transit, the tube where the vehicle would appear a rounded dip in the permacrete at the end of the terminal. 

Casey waited, her eyes glancing up at the arrivals read-out over the platform.  The next transport would be there shortly, and she thanked her luck that she didn’t have to hang around too long.  She was looking forward to getting back to the flat and convincing Davis to pamper her by bribing him with sex.

Not that it would it would take a lot of that.  Davis was usually onboard with that sort of thing.

She could hear the transport echoing up through the tunnel, and Casey stepped toward the tube, stopping a couple of feet from the end of the platform.  She glanced at her wrist chronometer, smiling when she considered getting home soon, where Davis would be waiting.

The transport was now visible, gliding along the tunnel toward the terminal.  Casey took another step forward, wanting to beat the crowd that was forming at her back.  She was looking forward to finding a good seat.

And that was when someone bumped her from behind.

Casey stumbled forward, and it was only because she had a semblance of natural balance that kept her from staggering any further.  She was turning around to give whoever it was a piece of her mind when she was shoved again, this time with intent.

She caught a glimpse of the big guy who’d held the door open for her.  He was grinning at her darkly, and reacting on instinct Shraeger lunged and punched him in the throat.

Several people shouted as the man went backward on his arse, his hands darting up to his neck, his eyes wide and mouth gaping in surprise at her strike.  She couldn’t let him recover; stepping over his legs, Casey then planted a knee into his solar plexus, her stun gun coming out of its holster at her hip to cover the bastard. 

That movement had the rest of the bystanders parting around her and her assailant, giving them plenty of space.  Casey ground down with her knee, and the man let out a breath, his face turning red and his hands reaching out to dislodge her weight.

She gave him a little love tap with the butt of her gun across his forehead to dissuade him from attacking her.  “Don’t move,” she snarled. 

As he lay there stunned, Casey reached with one hand for her handcuffs.  “You’re under arrest,” she told him, then began to read him his rights as she hooked one cuff around a thick wrist. 

At the pressure on his other wrist, he tried to buck her off.  But her knee was keeping him from getting enough oxygen into his lungs.  

And then, he stilled.  Casey got the second cuff attached to her attacker as he was suddenly smiling up at her.

His lips moved.  Casey wasn’t a lipreader by any stretch of the imagination, but it was obvious what he was saying.

_Hail Hydra._

From the reports they’d received, that had been what the people who’d tried to kidnap the Crown Prince had shouted just before killing themselves.  Of course, this guy couldn’t say it out loud, since she was pretty sure she’d at least bruised his larynx.

Even before Casey knew she was reacting, she was shoving the butt of her stun gun into the perp’s mouth, hoping to keep him from biting down onto the poison capsule that the kidnappers were said to have had. 

“Oh no,” she snapped.  “You’re not about to kill yourself, you _baca_.”   

It was the nastiest thing she could think to say, and she thought very appropriate under the circumstances.

The man was glaring up at her as she straddled him, pulling her work comm from her pocket, calling for back-up.

Maybe this case wasn’t quite so dead after all.

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

 

**_3 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Imperial Throneworld_ **

****

Phillip stood outside the Imperial Council chambers, perfectly calm on the outside, but not so much on the inside, although it wasn’t nervousness about what was about to happen.

He’d put on his chosen Torchwood uniform for this: all black, with the Torchwood ‘T’ and dragon on the left breast, the boots shined like mirrors.  He was there as the Director, and was determined to show that the Council calling him on the carpet wasn’t something that bothered him overly much.

And, it really didn’t.

What was bothering him was the idea that there could be someone in that room that was at least affiliated with HYDRA.

That HYDRA could be so close to the Imperial family was enough to set his teeth on edge, and yet he didn’t dare show just how angry he was at the very notion that there was a possible traitor in their midst.  He was well aware that Steve felt the same way, and he’d made certain that only the highest ranked of his Shieldsmen were around the family, ones that he’d personally vetted. 

Yes, there was a chance that one of Steve’s people could have been HYDRA as well.  That was also a highly disturbing thought.  However, the people put in place included the ones that had foiled the kidnapping attempt on Crown Prince Joshua, so they at least could be trusted.

Phillip would rather be home, especially after the news he’d received last night.  The image that Clint had sent along with his comm call had had Nathan practically dancing with delight; seeing his twin, now with her dragon form, had been the culmination of a lot of wishful thinking on his son’s part.  And, to know she was just like him, only in opposite colour, was a revelation that Phillip should have expected, but hadn’t.  He really wanted to be there for his eldest daughter, to share in her joy at finally discovering her dragon form…even if it had been brought out by accident.

He’d hadn’t been at all surprised that Alyce had immediately begun pestering Merlin to bring out her own dragon form.  For as long as Phillip could remember Alyce had been pining for it, wanting to fly with the rest of the family, and it had only been the knowledge that she’d have to find her mate first that had her content with her life.  She’d also learned how to take care of herself, as evidenced when she’d fought off the Dragon Slayer when the bastard had gone after Skylar; while she might have been young, she was an extremely accomplished lady.

But, apparently Jack had intervened, saying they didn’t want to take the chance until they saw if Nicole would suffer any ill effects from having her dragon form drawn out like that.  Clint had said none of them thought she would, but it was better safe than sorry, and that Alyce had accepted her father’s word, and Merlin’s that he’d try with her as soon as they knew for certain it wasn’t going to upset any sort of physical balance within Nicole.

They’d had to laugh at Clint’s description of the Doctor listening so intently to Daisy and, unlike his mate, Phillip fully believed the Time Lord when he claimed to speak Baby.  According to the Doctor, Daisy was missing her ‘Cold Daddy’ and ‘Pretty Brother’ – which had had Nathan blushing – and that she thought they kept her room too warm.  Clint had sounded very disbelieving, and was treating it like some sort of joke, but Phillip was positive the Doctor knew what he was doing…at least where translating for their littlest dragon was involved.

That, on top of discovering that the Dragon Slayer was another reincarnation, and this one of the knight who’d been involved with murdering Ianto’s birth family…he couldn’t even imagine what Ianto had to be feeling.  At least Jack was with him, until it was time for his fellow immortal to head out to meet Cadi and Alun, and the reincarnation of Toshiko Sato, taking the Doctor with him.

Phillip waited, outwardly patient.  He was glad that Nathan wasn’t with him; his son was out in the city, taking in the sights.  Nathan had wanted to accompany him, but Phillip had put his foot down; there was no way he’d be allowed to enter the Council chamber, and the ice mage knew how twitchy Nathan would get with simply hanging around.  So, Phillip had arranged for Steve to find Nathan a guide, to show him around, keeping him occupied and away from the pressure of the Council.

He’d been expecting them to have him cooling his heels…no pun intended.  It was yet another power play, one that the Council would be pulling even if HYDRA wasn’t in the picture.  It gave him a little more time to come up with his strategy, because he was certainly going to need one.

Councillor Cole would be the one sure enemy he had in that room.  He would have to observe the rest to see who else was against him.  Councillor Xanthi, most certainly.  Guinevere had claimed that Redmond was actually in Torchwood’s corner and certainly, his countenance over the comm when Phillip had been summoned to Throneworld could have been some sort of act. 

Of course, Guinevere herself would be behind him.  She was a good friend, but she also knew the usefulness of Torchwood in Imperial affairs, and Phillip was positive it wouldn’t have mattered who the Director was; she would be standing behind them just as much as she was him.  She was also his friend, and that meant a lot.

Phillip took a breath to centre himself once more, and as if on cue the door into the chamber opened, and one of the Council interns stepped out.  “They’re ready for you, Director.”

He thanked the young being politely, then stepped into the lions’ den.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been inside the Council chamber, and Phillip doubted it would be the last.  It was a large room, the Council seats rising up from a central dais in the centre of the chamber, where Councillors would debate as their peers watched.  High above the seats was the Imperial booth, where the ruling leader of the Human Empire could watch the proceedings, and would intercede when required.

Her Imperial Majesty, Danielle, was seated there now.  Her Consort, David, stood just behind and to the left of the chair that was always reserved for the ruler; it wasn’t a proper throne, but it was impressive in its own right.  She was wearing robes of the purest white, the blaze of her red hair bright against the fabric.  She nodded at him in greeting, as did David; a tall, brown-haired Inhuman who Phillip knew could make people ignore him, as if he was some sort of living perception filter.

Steve stood with them, at attention by the door that led out into the corridor beyond the booth, his dark clothes almost blending into the shadows.  Only the paleness of his blond-silver hair stood out, marking his presence to anyone who would happen to glance up. 

He could remember when the Council had only been a dozen people, from various worlds.  Now, there were one hundred, from different sectors of space.  There was also the representative from Torchwood and the Adjudicator’s Guild, recognisable in their uniforms.

Phillip walked steadily to the centre of the dais, stopping to face the Imperial booth, in a semi-formal parade rest, hands clasped behind his back.  He bowed toward the Empress, who nodded once again. 

Then he addressed the Council.  “I have come as you asked.  How may I help the Imperial Council?”  he kept his tone polite, and his face in the bland mask he’d perfected over the millennia.

Councillor Xanthi do’Meshae rose from his seat.  The Halistran was imposing in his official robes, and he glared down at Phillip as if he was personally offended by the ice mage’s presence.

“You are here to answer to this Council for what we see as a misuse of Torchwood resources,” the Councillor began. 

“And what resources am I supposed to have misused?” he asked evenly.  Now that he was facing his accusers, calm had settled over him.  Phillip might have hated the politics his position had to deal with, but he’d been doing it a very long time.  He wouldn’t take anything for granted, but he felt he could handle whatever was going to be thrown at him.

Xanthi didn’t look happy that Phillip had interrupted him…well, it hadn’t technically been an interruption, as the Halistran had paused in his recitation.

“We know about this vendetta you’re involved in,” Xanthi proclaimed, as if this actually answered Phillip’s question.

“You mean the Vow of Vengeance against the person who murdered my sister-by-mating, injured another, and then attacked my son?” 

He could tell that his composure was bothering Xanthi.  A part of him wanted to look around the chamber to see how anyone else was reacting, but an instinct told him to keep focussed on the being addressing him.  If he seemed distracted it would only give Xanthi an opening that Phillip honestly didn’t want to give.  He’d trust Steve to catch any sort of tells that Phillip might miss; after all, he’d trained the man himself, and knew the current Grand Master’s abilities.

“I have, of course, taken personal leave from Torchwood during this time of war,” he continued, “in order to prevent any sort of conflict of interest.” 

“War?” Councillor Redmond enquired, standing. 

Phillip had to turn a little to look at him.  “Yes, Councillor.  As I believe you’re aware, the Star Dragons have declared war on the organisation that is responsible for the death of Sabrina Jones-Swann, and the attacks on Rowena ap Llyn; her mate, Henry Morgan; and my own son, Skylar Jones-Coulson.  We intend to take that war to it inevitable conclusion, and that war does not involve Torchwood.”

“You’re not a Star Dragon, though,” Xanthi accused.

Phillip met the Halistran’s eyes coolly.  “No, but I have mated into their clan, and as such have shifted my loyalty to them.  If you had checked into my records – which I’m sure you have – then you would have noticed that I have listed ‘Star Dragon’ as my legally documented race.”  ‘Altered Human’ was also listed, but that wasn’t relevant to the case at hand.  “Ice Mage’ wasn’t there, but that wasn’t necessary to circumstances either, really.

“And you’re saying that you haven’t embroiled Torchwood into your so-called _jihad_?”

Ah, Phillip had been waiting for Benjamin Cole to speak up.

Councillor Cole was a short, slim man, in his fifties, with same blond hair his daughter had, and pale eyes.  He was dressed in the traditional Councillor’s garment: a long, white robe that was closed at the front and hung down to his knees.  He wasn’t imposing to look at, but Phillip knew the Earther had a very impressive power base and wasn’t afraid to use it.

“By its very definition,” Phillip responded, “a _jihad_ is a holy war.  There is nothing religious about our fight against HYDRA at all.  We have all sworn a Vow of Vengeance, one that has been duly acknowledged by Her Imperial Majesty.” He bowed toward Danielle once more.  “Torchwood has no place in this war.  I have left my Second in charge while I’m gone, and she will handle things commendably.  If there is an issue that she cannot deal with, she has permission to contact either me, or Directors Harkness or Pendragon, and any of us will be more than happy to help.  However, Second May _is_ the provisional Director of the Torchwood Institute, and she will remain so until such time as the Vow of Vengeance has been discharged.”

“And you haven’t used your position in order to avail yourself of Torchwood resources?” Cole persisted.  “For example…confiscating this so-called magical knife that was taken from the scene of the attack upon your son?”

Phillip fought the urge to narrow his eyes at the Councillor.  How had Cole known about the knife?  They’d been careful to keep its existence secret.  Either they had another mole within Torchwood – which Phillip seriously doubted – or someone had gotten to the authorities on New Wales and had somehow convinced them to talk.

“I understand that Torchwood took that item into custody,” he answered.  “However, surely you must know that Sabrina Jones-Swann was also a Torchwood operative and, as such, Second May would most likely be running her own investigation into my sister-by-mating’s death.  Just as the Lunar Police are making enquiries into the attack upon Professors ap Llyn and Morgan, and the New Wales constabulary are checking into the attempt on my son’s life, and as I understand it they are not prepared to handle anything so magically dangerous.  I’m also aware that the Adjudicator’s Guild has their own investigation into matters as well.” 

He turned to the representative from the Guild for confirmation.  The man, a taller than average Remneth whose red skin was only complemented by the black of his official robes, nodded.  “That is true, Director Coulson.  As these attacks took place on Imperial citizens, both the Guild and Imperial Security have their own enquiries ongoing as well.  The Adjudicator’s Guild also recognises Star Dragon law in this issue, and are cooperating with your Patriarchs in order to bring this killer to justice, be it Imperial or Star Dragon.”

“And what about the attack that was led on Earth?” Cole demanded, not looking happy that Phillip had managed to derail _that_ particular argument.  “As the representative of Earth’s sector, I have a right to demand reparations for a battle that took place on my sovereign world.”

“That wasn’t a Torchwood-sanctioned action,” Phillip pointed out.  “Avalon and the surrounding area is owned by my sister-by-mating, Captain Anwyn Harkness-Jones.  The clan was within our rights in aiding her in the removal of trespassers from her land…which we did.  However, what we hadn’t anticipated was that there were several people there who had been kidnapped from their homeworlds…including a young boy who was being used by his kidnappers for the magic that he had.  That child has since been returned to his parents, and the kidnappers are currently incarcerated in Stormcage prison, awaiting trial in the Imperial courts.”

It was glossing over the facts somewhat.  They’d known going in that there were at least two people being held on Avalon: Lisa and Rhys.  Finding Doctors Costello and Holmes had been a bonus, as had that poor child HYDRA had stolen from his family. 

“There was also evidence of dark magic being used,” he went on.  “That offence also means prison time for the perpetrators…as I’m sure you’re aware, Councillor Cole.”

He purposely aimed that last barb right at Cole, and while he’d kept his voice even and calm, the man had reared back as if the ice mage had physically struck him.  His own daughter had been caught using dark magic, and had had her own power stripped from her for it. 

He didn’t bring up the genocide charge.  He knew he didn’t have to and, besides, he wasn’t there to make points against a man whose major fault was pride.

“The moment we realised what was going on, we did call in the authorities.  Which I’m sure you’re aware of as well.”

“Excuse the interruption,” someone spoke up from one of the upper seats.  Phillip looked in that direction, and watched as a Draconian stood up, the Councillor’s robes a bit more ornate than some he’d seen.  “You mentioned Avalon.”  Phillip acknowledged the comment.  “Are you speaking of the mythical island of Avalon, where the Once and Future King was interred upon his death?”

Trust a non-human to figure _that_ part out, but then the Draconians were a race that believed in honour and would have been familiar with such stories.  “Indeed, Councillor.  If you would care to check the records once more, you would see that Captain Harkness-Jones is the mother of the reincarnated Arthur Pendragon, and that she took title of the property in the Standard Year 3257.  Up until we discovered the trespassers, we had believed the island was being watched over by its caretaker, Freya, the Lady of the Lake.  However, she also ended up a prisoner, and we were able to reinstate her to her previous position.” 

The Draconian thanked Phillip, then sat back down.  Phillip inclined his head in respect.

“There is also the concern of your ability to run an organisation such as Torchwood,” Xanthi added, sounding as if he was grinding his teeth.  “We’re aware that you recently were subjected to torture via an unauthorised mind probe, and we have to question if you are both physically and mentally fit for such responsibility.”

Phillip had, of course, expected this realm of questioning as well, and was prepared.  “I have been cleared by several doctors, including Doctor Gaius Richardson, Torchwood’s resident lead physician; Doctor Jemma Simmons, a certified biochemist and an expert in my form of immortality; and the Time Lord known as the Doctor as to my fitness to carry on my duties, when I should return to them.  I also have spoken to Doctor Elizabeth Olivet, a well-known psychologist who specialises in PTSD and mental health issues as pertaining to long-term torture, and she has also certified me as ready to assume my duties once more.  If you wish, I can make their reports available to you.”  Well, there were certain things he’d leave out, like the magical overload he’d suffered.  None of the Councillors needed to be made aware of his ice mage classification, although he suspected there would be a few who knew, but weren’t versed on what exactly he could do.  That had been the real reason Gaius had checked him over; not only was the reincarnation the expert on dragon physiognomy, he was also well-versed in magical injuries.

“I don’t think that is necessary, Director,” the Adjudicator Guild representative declared, standing and cutting off whatever it was Xanthi was about to say; the Halistran didn’t look at all happy at that.  Phillip approved.  “Medical information is personal by nature, and as long as these four are willing to make statements as to your fitness, they will be accepted into evidence.  However, judging from your presence here, I sincerely doubt even they will be needed.  You seem to be of very sound mind and body.”  There was a slight smirk on the Remneth’s face, Phillip interpreting that to mean he knew exactly what Xanthi had been up to and of his willingness to nip it in the bud immediately.

Phillip made a mental note to get to know him better.  He thought they might at least be able to work together, if not become friends.

“I want to have Torchwood submit to an independent audit of its dealings with this so-called terrorist group known as HYDRA,” Councillor Cole declared.  “We need to make certain that one of the most powerful organisations in the Empire is above reproach.”

“There has been no evidence presented that Torchwood has committed any sort of wrongdoing or that there has been no conflict of interest,” another Councillor stood, this one a squeaky-voiced Alpha Centauri.  Its single huge eye blinked once, giving Cole a confused glare.  “I do not see the need to allocate Imperial resources for such an endeavour.”

“I second my esteemed fellow Councillor from Alpha Centauri,” the Adjudicator said, standing once more.  “Director Coulson has answered our questions, and in fact has done everything he could to avoid such a conflict of interest.  Plus, he has given us references to consult as to his mental and physical suitability to remain in charge of Torchwood.”

Councillor Cole’s face went red with anger.  This had obviously not gone the way he’d thought, and Phillip had long ago realised that the man was a sore loser.

“And I second Councillor Cole’s call for an audit,” Xanthi threw his two credits’ in.  He also didn’t look happy, but Phillip believed it was him needing to try to stick it to Torchwood despite not really having the backing to accomplish it.

“Then I call for the vote,” another Councillor stood, this one a Tegnari, one set of arms crossed over her chest and the second one down by her sides, the yellow of her skin clashing faintly with the brilliant white of her robes.

“I second that call,” Councillor Redmond echoed. 

Phillip thought he was going to be asked to leave the chamber, but he wasn’t.  So, he stood as the vote was taken.

It gave him the very best read of the room he could possibly want.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

**_3 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Dahlnia Prime_ **

****

Dahlnia Prime was a beautiful, blue-white world, growing larger in the front cockpit window of the _Free Wheeler._

It had been a long time since Cadi had been there.  That had been during the recovery after an asteroid had brushed by the planet and had destabilised its magnetic field.  It had taken years for them to recover from that, as it had affected most of the technology that relied on that sort of thing, but they had eventually.  That was one of the many times that Cadi had used the _Wheeler_ ’s revolving transponder, giving her ship a new identity; it hadn’t been a good idea at the time to give her identity away, since the planet had been in practically security lock-down, what with all the celebrities and politicians that had been using the disaster to boost their reputations.

Well, it wasn’t _all_ of them.  After all, Emlyn and Morgan had been perfectly happy using their own status to _help_ people, and not just to gain sound bites. 

This time, though, she was going as herself.  There was no need to hide who she was, especially since she and Alun were meeting Dad and the Doctor there.

She’d gotten the call last night.  It would be only Dad and the Doctor; Tad was staying in Ddraig Llyn at the moment, trying to work out a way to track the murderer calling himself the Dragon Slayer from the information they’d gained.  To have discovered that HYDRA had gone and managed to locate the soul of one of the knights that had butchered Tad’s birth family had made Cadi almost as angry as the attack on Rowena had, and it had been all she could do not to turn the ship and make for Earth at best speed. 

But no, her Dad had pointed out, they needed to also find the criminals known as H and G, the ones who’d sent Sabrina into the trap that had led to her death.  He was right, of course, but Cadi couldn’t help but wish she was with her Tad right now, taking up the hunt for the one who’d done the actual killing. 

She had her part to play.  She had the contacts, and the knowledge.  She would be needed on Trafusis, so that was where she would go.

“It’s lovely.”

Cadi turned to smile at her newly-found Aunt Tosh.  The ten-year-old half-human child that was now standing in the gap between the pilot and co-pilot chairs held the memories and intelligence of Toshiko Sato, former Torchwood operative and certified genius, the look of wonder on her face warming Cadi’s heart. 

“This is the first time you’ve been away from Smuggler’s Moon, right?” Alun enquired, from his own seat in the co-pilot’s place.  He wasn’t actually helping Cadi pilot; but then, she really didn’t need the help.  She could run the _Free Wheeler_ for months at a time, on her own.

Now, though, the last thing she wanted to do was be by herself, not after her sister’s death, and the attack on her twin and her nephew.

“It is,” Toshiko confirmed.  “I hadn’t planned on it happening just yet, but being here now is wonderful.”

“Is your gear all packed away?” Cadi asked.

“Yes, but you know I’m not happy about this.”

“Don’t worry,” Alun growled, “you’re not the only one.”

Cadi could understand.  While she would be going onto Trafusis with Dad and the Doctor, Alun and Toshiko would be using the planetary transmat to head home, to Ddraig Llyn, where Tad was waiting.  Unfortunately, Alun would stick out like a sore thumb on Trafusis, and Aunt Tosh…well, she might have the memories of a grown-up, but she was still in a child’s body, and Trafusis was no place for her to be.

The comm crackled before she could say anything.  _“Approaching ship, this is Dahlnia Prime Space Authority.  Please state your business.”_

She toggled on her own comms.  “Dahlnia Prime Space Authority, this is _Free Wheeler,_ ident code FTV1415 Beta, requesting permission to land.  One pilot, two passengers, looking for long-term docking facilities.  We are on Star Dragon business, meeting family members here.”

There was a pause, and then a different voice came over the speaker.  “Free Wheeler, _you have permission to land.  Director Harkness is awaiting you at Platform East 12-30.  Please align your transponder with Spaceport Control for landing.”_

“Confirmed, Space Authority.”  Cadi did as she was requested, knowing that their transponder would be able to ‘talk’ to the one on the ground, relaying coordinates for their berth. 

“Jack’s here already,” Toshiko breathed, sounding suddenly very nervous. 

“Should have expected it, really,” Alun laughed, slipping his arm around the child comfortingly.  “The only thing that would’ve prevented it was if the TARDIS decided to be temperamental and not land in the right time zone.”

“I still can’t believe that Jack, Ianto, and the Doctor are now on speaking terms…let alone the Doctor being family now!”

“That’s right,” Cadi realised, “you were there for all that mess with the Master.”

Dad and Tad had explained what had occurred between them and the Doctor, and why their relationship had been rocky for centuries.  Personally, she was glad they’d made up.  Cadi didn’t know what she would have done if the Doctor hadn’t been available to come and get both her and Sabrina from Stark’s World, after…it also didn’t hurt that she genuinely liked the Time Lord, and without him Merlin might not have found Arthur, so there’s that bonus as well.

“It really was a mess,” Aunt Tosh confirmed.  “But then, I understand this regeneration is a bit less into himself than the one we knew.”

“Makes me glad I didn’t meet his Tenth self, then,” Alun laughed.  “I quite like this version, and I think you will, too.”

“I hope so.”

The _Wheeler_ shivered slightly as Cadi adjusted their flight path a little, following the coordinates being beamed to them from Space Authority.  It looked as if they were being directed to the planet’s Southern Hemisphere, which meant they most likely would be berthing at the main spaceport near Elspa.

The plan she’d been given was that she would be leaving the _Wheeler_ on Dahlnia Prime for the time being, and she, Dad, and the Doctor travelling onto Trafusis in the TARDIS.  It made sense; if they went by ship, it would take them a good two weeks to get to Trafusis.  H and G had over a two week head start on them, and if they followed on the _Wheeler_ they could conceivably miss the pair if they decided not to stay for long.  Travelling by TARDIS meant they might even get there before their quarry, which Cadi could only think of as a good thing.

Besides, she quite liked the TARDIS.  The sentient time machine had been kind to her, back when the Doctor and Grandtad Rhys had come for them on Stark’s World; she’d sung to Cadi, a wordless song that had soothed her a little in the midst of her grief and guilt as she’d sat with her younger sister, the Doctor taking them home. 

When they’d gone back to Stark’s World, to investigate the attack, the TARDIS had seemed quite concerned for her, and Cadi had appreciated it.  Yes, her family had been the same way, but there had been something a little different in the way that the TARDIS had felt; Cadi’s family had been comforting, but they were all suffering in the same way.  The TARDIS hadn’t really known Sabrina, and yet she’d been truly sorry for Cadi’s loss, like a friend who was also mourning but not in the same way, and could offer support because she understood what that loss was, yet it was more for Cadi than Sabrina.  Cadi had _felt_ that, and she’d been grateful for it.

As they got closer, they passed through the sensor and satellite net that surrounded the planet.  The orbital early-warning system was new; no one wanted a repeat of what had occurred a little under eighty years ago.  No one knew exactly how the asteroid had managed to escape notice before it was too late to do anything about it, but from now on Dahlnia Prime would be prepared for anything like it happening again.

Once they received final clearance, they were landing within minutes.  Elspa was the major city in the Southern Hemisphere, the older of the larger cities on the planet.  It was surrounded by tropical rainforest, much of the offworld trade was in medicinal plants, and the Dahlnians took their forests with a lot of pride. 

There was also a trade in fine arts.  Dahlnia Prime’s pigments were much sought-after, and Cadi had once had the opportunity to steal back a piece of art that an unscrupulous arms dealer had once murdered a family for, just because he wanted the painting and they had refused his offer on it.  She’d taken a great deal of pleasure in destroying the man’s business as well…which was why she was currently wanted on Altara Two.

Elspa was a bright point amid the green, and Cadi expertly sent the _Wheeler_ into its assigned flight path.  Out of the corner of her eye she could see Aunt Tosh grinning widely, and it was one of the few moments that she was acting her physical age, instead of her mental one.  It was obvious she was excited and awed by her first visit to another planet, and Cadi wished they had time to show her the sights before they were parted.

Having their Tad’s adopted sister in their lives was amazing.  If any one good thing came out of what had happened to their family in the last several weeks, it was that.

The spaceport was on the outskirts of the city, and Cadi found her assigned berth easily enough.  It was an open, circular space that the _Wheeler_ slid into perfectly, thanks to her piloting skills, the landing struts touching down with nary a bump.  Cadi began the shut-down procedures, wanting to make certain that her pride and joy was locked down for the time it would be before she could come back and retrieve her.  It wasn’t the first time she’d ever left her prized ship somewhere for a long period of time, and she had the process completed in a timely manner, the security systems primed to activate the moment the ship was closed up.

Walking down the ramp was like getting hit in the face by a hot, soggy towel; it was just that muggy.  Alun was last, pushing the antigrav cart with Aunt Tosh’s possessions on it, and Cadi entered the lockdown code the moment her brother and new aunt were clear.  The state of the art security system chirped at her the moment the proper codes were entered on the keypad next to the ramp, and with a slight hiss the _Free Wheeler_ sealed herself up tightly.

Off in a corner of the bay, sat the TARDIS, looking incongruous amid the permacrete of the dock.

The time machine’s doors opened, and Jack stepped out. 

Idly Cadi was glad he was back to his usual greatcoat; the black he’d been wearing hadn’t suited him at all.

In four long strides, Jack was across the tarmac and had swept Toshiko up, spinning her around, laughing as if he’d just been given the very best gift ever.

Toshiko was laughing as well, but hers sounded a little choked, and Cadi could see the tears on her cheeks when Jack finally stopped twirling her.  She was holding on just as tightly as Dad was, and Cadi couldn’t help the smile that broke out over her face.  Alun had one just like it.

“My darling Toshiko!” Jack exclaimed happily.  He finally set her back down, grinning down at her.  “You are a sight for ancient eyes.”

“Jack!” she cried, swiping away at the tears.  “I hadn’t meant for you to see me like this…”

“It doesn’t matter,” he assured her.  “You’re still our Tosh.  Only, don’t let Owen give you any grief, alright?  He doesn’t have room to talk.”

He clasped her shoulder, then headed over to give first Alun, then Cadi, the same treatment…only without the twirling.  Then he pulled away slightly, and Cadi wanted to blush at how he was examining her, as if he was checking her for injuries only her Dad would be able to see.  “You’re looking a little better,” he murmured. 

“So are you,” she told him, giving him a reassuring smile.  “And you looked horrible in black.  I’m glad you’re not wearing it anymore.”

Her Dad shrugged.  “It was time.  You know I’ll always mourn your sister, but she wouldn’t want me to not be myself because of it.”

Tears prickled, but Cadi ignored them.  He was right; of course, he was right.  Sabrina wouldn’t want them to wallow.  She’d want them out there, kicking arse and getting their vengeance. 

Which was what they were going to do.

“And this is the Doctor,” Toshiko interrupted, sounding a bit too stern for her age.

That had them all turning.  The Doctor was standing off to the side, fidgeting a little.  He was also back in his usual purple coat, but this time Cadi didn’t comment on how much better it suited him. 

“Hello,” the Doctor said, sounding vaguely uncomfortable.  “And you’re Toshiko Sato. I remember you.”

The little girl who was once one of the scariest women her brother Clint claimed to have ever known walked right up to the Time Lord, giving him a glare that would have done Arthur proud.  “I’m going to give you a chance,” she growled.  “But I will hurt you if you hurt anyone I care for.”

“Deal,” the Doctor declared, holding his hand out to her.

She eyed it sceptically, but then accepted it.  “As long as we understand each other.”

“I believe we do.”  Then he gave her his own version of a pleased grin, the one that Cadi always thought looked a little unhinged.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.  Anyone who holds such esteem with Jack and Ianto is someone special indeed.”

Toshiko blushed a little at that.

“I hate that we have to meet again and then leave,” Jack said apologetically, “but we need to get to Trafusis.  And, while I know the TARDIS is a time machine…”

“That’s fine,” Aunt Tosh sighed.  “I understand.  I don’t have to like being left behind although I understand.”  She waved a hand at herself.  “I’m ten standard years old.  I won’t be of any use to you at all.”

“Not necessarily,” he told her.  “We could really use your skills on this.  I’m sure Cadi told you what we’ve discovered…”

Toshiko nodded.

“We need you to get your equipment set up and we’re not afraid to put you to work.  There’s still so much we don’t know, and we’re hoping you can ferret things out.”

“I can do that.” Her certainty warmed Cadi’s heart. 

“Alun will make certain you get home.”  Jack looked at Alun, who’d gained that mulish expression that he’d often gotten as a child when he wasn’t allowed to get his way.

“I’m not happy about the three of you running off without me,” her brother muttered. 

“I know you’re not, but I trust you to get Toshiko home and help her get things set up.  Clint will help; he’s the tech of the family.” That last part was directed at Aunt Tosh.

She was smiling.  “I can’t believe Clint beat us all back.  I’m really happy for both him and Phillip.”

“He can’t wait to see you again.  Besides, he needs a little distraction, with Phillip on Throneworld and Skylar down.  Plus, what happened to Nicole…”

He’d explained that to them during their call last night.  Cadi was pleased that Nicole finally had her dragon form, even if she was a bit confused by how it had come about.  Still, she didn’t know a thing about magic, just what she needed to in her business dealings, and from what her Dad had said it had been a complete surprise. 

She did wonder how much it would take for Alyce to finally get Merlin to bring out her own dragon form, if he could duplicate it with someone else.  Her youngest sister had been itching to achieve her change for as long as she’d been alive, from what Cadi could recall.

“Have you heard anything from Phillip?” Alun asked.

Jack shook his head.  “He was heading into the inquisition when the Doctor and I left Ddraig Llyn.  I’m sure it’ll go fine, because Phillip knows how to handle that sort of thing, but Clint was still anxious about it.  At least he has Nicole, Skylar, and Daisy to keep him occupied.”

“Then we should probably get this show on the road,” Alun said. 

“I have priority codes for you, for the transmat.”  Jack slid the sleeve of his coat up, revealing his broken Vortex Manipulator.  He flipped up the cover, punching a couple of buttons.

Alun’s own wrist computer beeped, and her brother glanced at to make certain the transfer was complete.  Dahlnia Prime’s transmat system was relatively new; there were only a couple of terminals on the planet, the majority of people still relying on public transportation and personal vehicles to get around, for the most part. 

Then he turned back to Toshiko.  “This is goodbye for now, but I’ll be home soon.”  He leaned down and hugged her once more. 

“You’d better be,” she scolded him lightly, relaxing in Jack’s embrace.

He kissed her gently on the top of the head, and then turned to Alun.  “Take care, son.”  He folded Alun into his own hug. 

“I will, Dad.” 

They released each other, and then Jack held out a hand to Cadi.  “You ready to go, sweetheart?”

Cadi didn’t think she’d been any readier.  “Let’s go get them, Dad.”

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

 

**_3 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Ddraig Llyn_ **

****

Ianto couldn’t sit still.

Which was why he was currently pacing the hallway outside of the family’s transmat cubicle.

Yes, he’d been happy that Owen, Suzie, and Diane had come back, but there was something different about knowing that Toshiko was on her way home.  The former three had been friends, and he’d even thought of them as family, but Toshiko…she’d been the second person he’d told he was a dragon, after Jack, and she’d been a sister to him in so many more ways.  They’d worked together, supported each other, and had been closer than the dragon had been to the others. 

It really was like he was regaining a sister.

Even if it was in the wake of losing a daughter, which he knew he’d never get over.

The unmistakable hum of the activating transmat had Ianto stopping in his tracks, his heart beating furiously.  He took a deep breath, trying to relax before flinging open the door to the cubicle under the stairs, watching as the pad began to glow and a figure appear.

He'd been informed that the current incarnation of Toshiko was a child, but it was still a surprise.

Still, that didn’t stop him from reaching out to her, tears prickling his eyes as she stepped into his embrace, and he hugged the stuffing out of her as he felt his dear friend’s own tears wetting his collar.

“Goddess,” he whispered into her white hair, “how I have missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” came the quiet, choked response.

Ianto lost time as they stood in the hallway.  The transmat activated once more, and he pulled Toshiko aside to make room for Alun and the antigrav lift, both stuffed into the cubicle, his son having to fight his way out, pulling the lift behind him.  It was piled high with Toshiko’s belongings, and Alun gave him a smile as he moved past, taking the load up the stairs toward one of the rooms, leaving them alone once more.

Eventually, Ianto moved away, but he didn’t take his hands from his friend’s – his _sister’s_ – shoulders.  “I can’t believe you’re finally back, and that you remember.”

She gave him a watery smile, her electric blue eyes a little red around the lids.  “Now I wish I hadn’t waited.”

Ianto could understand why she had.  Most everyone who’d reincarnated did, when they became old enough to leave the homes that they’d grown up in.  There were exceptions: Clint, who’d been born into the family, but had waited nearly sixteen hundred years before admitting it, although that had been because of timelines; and Arthur and Merlin, but that was because Merlin had shown up as a child with the Doctor and River, memories coming back even at three years old; and, of course, Arthur had remembered everything because of Merlin’s presence in his life.  Everyone else had waited.

“I’m just glad you’re finally here.  Come on, there are some people who can’t wait to see you as well.”

He led her out of the hallway and into the lounge, where the rest of the old team were waiting.  Owen, Suzie, and Diane; Clint, holding little Daisy who seemed extremely excited even though the little girl wouldn’t have understood why; and Rhys, the only member of their returned team who wasn’t a reincarnation.  Ianto had decided that these few would be easier for Toshiko to deal with initially, and he’d inflict the rest of the family on her once she’d had a chance to get used to being around once more.

“Bloody hell,” Owen was the first to speak, “you really _are_ a little kid.”

That had Toshiko rolling her eyes.  “And there really must be such a thing as Karma, because you’ve been brought back as a Polarian.”

That had their former medic barking a laugh and moving forward to give her a hug of his own, only it was perfunctory as he wasn’t much of a hugger, even in this life.  That had Suzie and Diane following, each with their own greetings, both equally glad to see their old teammate.  Suzie offered an apology for her past behaviour, which Toshiko accepted with equanimity, but assuring her that it wasn’t necessary.

Rhys was next, and had Toshiko crying once again.  “I thought you were dead,” she exclaimed, punching him in the arm once they were done hugging. 

“So did I,” Rhys admitted.  “Yet, here I am.”

“Here you are…and I hear you’re married to Jack’s Mum!  That’s amazing!”

“What can I say?” he shrugged self-deprecatingly. “I had to come to the future to find my soulmate.”

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

“She’s gonna adore you…and don’t be surprised if she tries to mother you.  She tries to pull that on Ianto all the time.”

The dragon laughed.  “And I let her.  Samara Harkness-Williams is unstoppable.”

“Too right she is!”  Rhys had an undeniable expression of fondness on his face; the one he always got when he thought of his wife.

“Guess this means it’s my turn,” Clint cut in, wrapping his free arm around her in yet another hug. 

“I’m so glad to see you too, Clint,” Toshiko said warmly, embracing him just as hard as she had the others.  Ianto wondered just how long it would take his son to talk Toshiko into making him high-tech arrows, like she had back when they were on the team together.

Clint then knelt in front of Toshiko, the best to present his child to her.  “And this is Daisy.”

“Oh, Clint…she’s adorable.”  Toshiko reached out, and Daisy was on her in an instant in that way she did with people she trusted, which was amazing considering that the little dragon was just meeting her.  Daisy clambered up onto Toshiko’s shoulders, draping herself around them and rubbing her cheek against hers in the dragon form of a kiss.

Ianto could tell the moment that was the moment Toshiko lost her heart to the little purple and white dragon.

“Tos!” Daisy cooed happily.

Clint frowned, looking confused.  “How did she…?”

Ianto wanted to know the same thing. 

How had Daisy known Toshiko’s name?  No one had actually used it in front of her yet.

Because it was obvious that was what she was saying, in her baby way.  Somehow, she’d known who Toshiko was, even though the resemblance to her past life really wasn’t that great.

“Who is she?” Rhys asked the inevitable question, just as amazed as everyone else was.

That had to be the only explanation.  That this child was someone who remembered Toshiko from before, even though she only vaguely resembled the technical genius who’d practically run Torchwood through the judicious use of technology she’d had an affinity for…an affinity she still had, from what Cadi and Alun had claimed.

“I wish the Doctor was here,” Ianto muttered.  “We could try and ask.”

“You don’t really believe he understands what she’s saying?” Clint scoffed.

The dragon simply raised an eyebrow, not even bothering to say aloud the silent, _You don’t?_

He was very much aware that Clint thought the Doctor was joking, but the TARDIS was an amazing creature, and she could translate any sort of language…except for Gallifreyan, which was understandable in a way.  It didn’t seem all that far-fetched that, somehow, the TARDIS was giving the Time Lord the ability to translate the chattering that sounded like so much nonsense to anyone else.

But then, would Daisy even understand that she might have another person’s memories within her?  She was still a child, a baby not even six months old.  Yes, she seemed very intelligent, speaking far sooner than she should be able to, but that didn’t mean that she would know what was happening to her. 

Perhaps they should talk to FitzSimmons about this.  After all, the Lorelans were the leaders in research of past lives.  The family had quite a lot of experience with it, having lived with the phenomena for centuries, but that still didn’t mean that they could understand what Daisy might be experiencing.

He was just considering doing just that when the chime of an incoming message sounded from the comm screen. 

Rhys, the closest to the controls, checked the signal for the identity of the caller.  “It’s those coppers from the Moon,” he reported. 

Ianto frowned slightly.  He wondered if Shraeger and Walsh had found another clue.  “Put them through, please,” he requested, moving to stand in front of the screen on the wall.

He heard Rhys typing the connect command, and the comm screen flared to life, revealing the pair who were rapidly becoming his favourite police officers currently living.  There was a gasp behind him, and the curse from Owen wasn’t much of a surprise when they all got their first good look at Detective Jason Walsh.

The dragon ignored it.  “What can I do for you, Detectives?” he greeted them cordially.

Shraeger had her mouth open in surprise; it was apparent she’d seen Clint, and was as surprised at his resemblance to her partner as they’d been the first time they’d met Walsh.  It really was uncanny, with a few differences that made it certain they weren’t twins, but it could still be a bit of a shock.

To his credit, Walsh wasn’t letting the fact that he had a doppelganger out there in the universe throw him.  _“We thought you might be interested in knowing that HYDRA tried to push my partner in front of a transport last night.”_

Ianto started in surprise.  That was…unexpected.  It was also startling that the two detectives were contacting him about it; after all, none of them had mentioned HYDRA as a part of their war. 

The dragon was quite impressed by what had to have been quite a deductive leap.  Or else they’d gotten into records that they shouldn’t have.

He glanced over at Shraeger; she looked to be unhurt, and was in the process of gathering her wits back around her at seeing Clint.  “Are you alright, Detective Shraeger?”  He had to wonder what had brought that on; neither Shraeger nor her partner were involved in this, outside the obvious police investigation.  There should have been no reason for HYDRA to make a play at either of them.

 _“I’m fine,”_ she answered, her eyes darting away from Ianto’s son and meeting the dragon’s through the connection.  _“But I’m afraid the perpetrator in question is a little bruised.”_

 _“She stuck her gun in his mouth to keep him from biting down on a poison capsule.”_ Walsh was inordinately proud of her, Ianto could tell.

“Well done,” the dragon congratulated.  “Is he capable of talking?”

 _“He is now,”_ Shraeger answered. _“But he needed some repair work to his larynx this morning.”_

“Good on you,” Rhys spoke up.  The rest of the family present concurred, judging from the sounds of agreement that floated up behind him.

 _“We thought, in the spirit of cooperation, that you might want to be present when we started questioning him,”_ Walsh went on.

Nodding fiercely, Ianto said, “You’re right, I would.  I can be at your precinct in half an hour.  Will that be acceptable?”

_“Perfectly, Second Jones.”_

“Please…it’s Ianto.  Or if you have to be professional, then Professor Jones is fine, Detective Walsh.  This investigation doesn’t involve the Institute, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

 _“Alright then, Professor.  We’ll see you in thirty minutes.”_ With that, the comm call disconnected, and the screen went blank.

“Bloody fucking hell,” Owen snarked.  “I thought the universe as a right bitch when I was reincarnated as a Polarian, but she went and created a Clint twin.”

“It was a bit startling the first time we met Detective Walsh,” Ianto admitted.  “I hadn’t planned on going anywhere today, hoping to help get Toshiko set up…”

“We can do that,” Suzie volunteered.  She turned to Toshiko, who was having far too much fun with Daisy on her shoulders.  “I’m guessing your brought all your equipment with you, right?”

She nodded.  “Alun took it somewhere.  I’m guessing the room where I’m going to be staying.”

“First floor,” Alun answered, and no…Ianto didn’t jump in surprise.  He hadn’t noticed that his son had rejoined them, and was standing beside the door to the time vault that had taken up residence in their lounge wall.  “Second door on the right.  It’s just next to Skylar’s.”

“Perfect,” Ianto said.

“Then we can help,” Suzie motioned to herself and the others.  “It’ll give us a chance to get caught up.  While we work.”

“And I’ll go and fetch Anwyn, Alyce, and Robyn,” Clint volunteered.  “You’re not going alone, Tad.”

He gave his eldest son a slight smile.  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Clint reached over and took Daisy away from Toshiko, and the little dragon curled up in her father’s arms even as she was letting out an unhappy huff.  “You seem to have a new admirer,” he commented, grinning at Toshiko.

“I’m not so sure that’s so new,” Toshiko replied.  “She definitely seemed to know who I am, even though I don’t look much like I did back then.”

“We’ll have to figure that out later,” the dragon said.  “For now, we have things to do.”

He glanced around the room as they scattered; Toshiko, Owen, Diane, and Suzie followed Alun upstairs, to where he’d put Toshiko’s belongings.  Rhys headed out to the kitchen, most likely to get the group that had just left refreshments.

That left Ianto with Clint and Daisy.

Clint suddenly looked quite worried.  “Tad…”

“She’s maturing a lot faster than a dragon child should.”  Ianto didn’t know if that was what his son was going to say, but he could guess.  “And you said that you thought she might take after Phillip in the magic department.”

“We haven’t seen any of that yet,” Clint conceded.  “But she obviously knew Aunt Tosh…”

“Which means that, whoever Daisy was she was most likely one of our team, or with Phillip’s SHIELD.  There’s nothing to worry about, alright?  We’ll figure it out.”

Clint sighed.  “I know.  It’s just that I remember what I went through, and Lisa…”

“But it’s different this time.  We know what to expect, and we can help.”

“You’re right.”  His son drew himself up a little taller, cradling his little girl closely.  Daisy snuggled down, her eyes watching her Dad, with so much trust and love in them that it made Ianto’s inner flame grow just a little warmer at the sight.  “I’ll go and get the others.  Don’t leave without them, okay?”

“I won’t,” he promised.  No, Ianto wasn’t about to go anywhere alone; he knew better.  He gave Clint a smile.  “Besides, if I take Alyce with me she won’t be pestering Merlin about him helping her with bringing out her dragon form.” 

Their youngest had been nearly relentless about it, until it had been pointed out to her that they really didn’t know how this was going to affect Nicole, and that it was best to wait.  Alyce had accepted it, but Ianto could tell she hadn’t liked it one bit.  Taking her with him would give her something else to focus on.

That brought out a snort of laughter in his son.  “I’m sure Merlin would appreciate it.” 

As he left the house to head over to Rowena and Henry’s, where the rest of the family was waiting, Ianto couldn’t help but wonder just why HYDRA had decided to target one of the detectives that were investigating the attack on his daughter and her mate.  How had they even known about Shraeger and Walsh, anyway?  What sort of advantage did it give HYDRA to murder a copper, anyway?

They were questions he didn’t have the answers to.  He hoped they’d be getting them from the HYDRA goon that was in custody.

He did doubt it, but they had to try.

 

 

 


	17. Chapter 17

 

**_3 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Armstrong Dome_ **

**_The Moon_ **

****

The Second Precinct headquarters might not have been in the prettiest building in the city, but Casey quite liked it.

It was well-used and functional, and didn’t need all that sort of pretentiousness that any of the other precincts had.  It was situated near the University, so many of the cases they got called out on had to do with unruly students. 

The majority of their cases, though, were just downright weird.

Take, for example, the one they were working on now.

Casey sighed, leaning back in her chair, her gaze on her partner at the desk opposite.  Walsh was practically glaring at his computer as if it had personally wronged him; she knew he was trying to work on an overdue report as they awaited the arrival of Second – no, _Professor_ – Jones.  The station medic had come in and had run a regenerator over the damaged tissue of their perpetrator’s larynx while at the same time removing the poison tooth the man had tried to break when Casey had taken him into custody last night. 

Who the hell does that sort of thing these days?

Oh, right…HYDRA apparently did.

Why was she not overly surprised?

Casey had done a little research on HYDRA, when she’d realised that the bastard who’d tried to kill her last night was a part of it.  She’d heard of the terrorist group before, of course; in that alert that had gone out after the attempt to kidnap Crown Prince Joshua.  But she’d never thought that she and Walsh would ever get onto their radar.

And it had happened because they’d been investigating the attack on the ap Llyn-Morgans.

That hadn’t been all that easy to find out.  It had taken a lot of digging and quite a few assumptions on both hers and Walsh’s parts, but it had been confirmed by Professor Jones’ reaction to the news she’d been attacked.  There had been a single news report of a pitched battle between dragons and a group that had been outed as HYDRA, so it only made sense that it had been HYDRA that the Star Dragons were fighting.

Casey had to wonder if they were going to be taken off the case because of this.

“You’re thinking too hard.”

She just about fell out of her chair at the comment.  Her eyes jerked upward to meet her partner’s, who was now staring at her somewhat knowingly.  The general noise of a busy police precinct echoed around them: the pair of desks beside them were empty, meaning that Banks and Delahoy were out somewhere; but out of the corner of her eye Casey could make out Cole at his own computer, and while she couldn’t see Beaumont she knew the other woman in their shift was in the breakroom, because she’d been complaining about the lack of decent snacks in the bullpen and had gone in search of something salty.  And Alvarez was most likely in Sergeant Brown’s office, trying to schmooze his way onto their case.  Anything high profile, and Alvarez wanted in.

Casey gave her partner an eyeroll.  “And you aren’t?  Because I think you’re about to destroy your computer with the power of your brain.”

Walsh shrugged.  “I wish it was that simple.”  He leaned back in his chair, the springs creaking as he tilted the seat.  “You wanna share what’s on your mind?”

“It’s probably the same that’s on yours.”

He gave her a knowing look. “You mean about this being the biggest case of both of our careers and chances are we’re gonna be taken off it?”

“We didn’t sign up to be cops to fight a war.”

“But we also didn’t sign up to be cops to let murderers escape.”

He had a point.  One that Casey agreed with.  “You think Brown’s gonna let us be seconded to whoever the hells’ in charge of all this?”

“I’m thinking he might not have much of a choice, because neither of us are the type to just let this go.”

Another point. “And you think they’ll let us just tag along until this is over?”

Walsh shrugged.  “I think they’ll figure out we’re gonna investigate no matter what, and we might as well be read in than stumbling around in the dark.  Besides, I don’t think HYDRA is going to stop, do you?”

No, she didn’t.   “I’m also still boggling a little over the fact that you seem to have a double out there.”

“Actually, I was just checking into that.”

“And here I thought you were trying to finish that report Brown was on you about,” she couldn’t help but tease him.

“Got that done already.”

Casey was a little surprised at that; her partner and paperwork didn’t get along all that well.  “So, what did you find then?”

“Apparently, the guy is Clint Jones-Coulson, Jones and Harkness’ oldest son and the mate of Torchwood’s current Director.”

Casey has to whistle softly at that. 

“Honestly, I don’t think there are _any_ unimportant people in that family,” Walsh went on, sounding just a bit disbelieving over that little fact.  “HYDRA poked a hornets’ nest when they decided to mess with the Star Dragons.”

The curiosity finally got to her, and Casey was up and out of her chair, to hover over her partner’s shoulder.  The mainframe they had at the precinct wasn’t the most up-to-date; they were still using monitors that were about ten years obsolete, which also meant the touch controls on them had long gone to shit.  Still, the resolution on Walsh’s screen was pretty good, except for the small blot of pixilation in the left bottom corner, so she could see exactly what he’d been up to.

The file up on it was of Walsh’s ‘twin’, one Franklin “Clinton” Jones-Coulson.  It was still crazy just how much Jones-Coulson resembled her partner; there were some minor, cosmetic differences, like Walsh looked a little older and his hair was just a bit lighter, plus their eyes were just a tad different sort of blue.  Still, they could easily have been brothers, it was that close.

Then her eyes widened when she caught the date of birth.  “He’s over seventeen hundred years old?”

“I can only hope to look that good at that age,” Walsh quipped.  “And that’s nothing…our Professor Jones is over five thousand.  There isn’t a date of birth for Director Harkness, but then there doesn’t seem to be much on him anyway, except that he has to be at least as old of his mate is.”  He shook his head.  “The oldest kid is that Captain Harkness-Jones we met, and she’s about twenty-five hundred.  Immortality…I can’t make up my mind if it’s awesome or if it sucks.”

Personally, Casey thought it would suck.  “Not completely immortal, though, if they can be killed.”

“True.  According to what I’ve been able to find, Harkness and Morgan are the only two true immortals out there.”

“Which I knew, but it’s nice to have it confirmed.”  It had been in the files they’d put together when they’d first gotten the case and discovered who their intended victim had been.

Walsh was shaking his head.  “We’ve put our feet right in this mess, Casey.”

“The only way out is through,” she added.

His eyes met hers, and she could see his agreement in them.  They were in this until the end, and being taken off the case wasn’t going to stop them.  It certainly wouldn’t have been the first time that having an investigation stolen out from under them and would only make the pair of them more stubborn.

Anything she might have said out loud was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of Alvarez being Alvarez, and she straightened up to find their fellow detective standing – or rather, blocking – the hallway just outside Sergeant Brown’s office, introducing himself to the Professor himself.

Eddie Alvarez was half-human, half-Remneth, which gave him a rather florid complexion and a moustache that Casey sometimes swore had a life of its own.  At that moment, the moustache was flapping as Alvarez shook a rather bemused dragon-in-human-form’s hand, saying just how glad he was to be meeting the rather famous Second of Torchwood and offering his help in the investigation of the tragic circumstances that had occurred, and what had brought him to the Second Precinct anyway?

Walsh mumbled something that was fairly uncomplimentary under his breath, and then was on his feet, going to rescue the professor before Alvarez could invite Jones over for dinner.  Which had happened before, and the rest of the detectives strove to keep it from happening again. 

Casey went along, because Walsh was totally right.  Besides, she thought she might actually like Professor Jones, even though they’d just met, and she didn’t want Alvarez to do something rash.

“Professor,” Walsh called out, breaking into Alvarez’s comments and making the man stutter, which could be entertaining under the right circumstances…which these were.

Ianto Jones gave Walsh a friendly smile, and then shared one with Casey as well.  “Detectives,” he greeted them warmly. 

“Don’t you have paperwork to get to, Alvarez?” Sergeant Brown called gruffly from inside his office. 

“Oh yes, Sir,” Alvarez spluttered.  He managed to get in a final, “If there’s anything Eddie Alvarez can do, you just call me,” and then was gone.

Jones had his head cocked, looking mildly confused.  “Did he just refer to himself in the third person?”

“It’s just something he does,” Casey assured him. 

By that time Brown had joined them, nodding in greeting.  “Second Jones.”

The dragon turned toward their superior.  “Sergeant Brown.  Thank you for indulging me by allowing us to watch your interrogation of the prisoner.”

Brown waved that away.  “I think you have enough clearance to witness it.  Hells, you can sit in on it if you want.  I understand we’re a little out of our jurisdiction on this one…”

“Not at all,” Jones answered.  “After all, I’m fairly certain it was our insistence that your two detectives stay on the case was what brought on the attack on Detective Shraeger.  If anything, she has the right to be involved.  And, as Detective Walsh is her partner, I’m positive it would be impossible to keep him away.”

Walsh had a smirk on his face, even as Brown was rolling his eyes.  “Yeah, you could assume that.”

“As we’ve reiterated, this isn’t Torchwood business.  It’s highly personal to me and my family, and there’s the matter of having declared war on the party responsible for trying to injure Detective Shraeger.  It’s Star Dragon law that ones who are wronged can declare vengeance against the ones who wronged them, and I’m quite certain that your detectives would want to do that.”

Oh hells, Casey suddenly understood just what Jones was saying.

He was giving them an in, under his own peoples’ laws.  He was letting them in as far as they wanted to go, and there was no way Casey was going to let that opportunity slide.  If it was in her nature, she’d be hugging him right then, being in the precinct or not.

She opened her mouth to agree, but Walsh – who was just as quick on the uptake as she was – got there first.  “You know we do.”

Something flickered through Brown’s dark eyes, and Casey thought it might have been approval.  There were times when she just didn’t know what the man was thinking, but in this circumstance it seemed he was perfectly willing to go along with it. 

Still, she completely expected the next words.  “You have other cases, too.”  He waggled a finger at them.  “Don’t let ‘em slide.”

“Not at all, Sir,” Walsh agreed.  It was almost sarcastic, but then Brown knew his detectives – well, Walsh could be a bit of a mystery to everyone who wasn’t Casey or Beaumont – and simply shook his head at the tone and went back into his office, shutting the door behind him.

Jones turned to them.  “Thank you for calling, although I do wish it weren’t under these circumstances.”  He glanced at Casey, and it was like he was checking her over for any sort of injury.  “You weren’t hurt, were you, Detective?”

Casey denied it.  “I did more damage to him, than he did to me.”

That earned her a pleased smile.  “Excellent.  Glad to hear it.”

Yes, she was well on her way to liking Ianto Jones.

“I do hope you don’t mind me bringing an escort,” Jones went on, his tone so dry Casey had to wonder why she wasn’t craving a glass of water.  “Of course, you remember my eldest, Captain Anwyn Harkness-Jones…with us today are my two youngest, Robyn and Alyce Harkness-Jones.”

Stepping up beside Jones were three women, one of them indeed was Captain Harkness-Jones.  The other two…one was obviously the captain’s sister, with the same dark hair, blue eyes, and dimple in the chin as Anwyn Harkness-Jones had, and was just as gorgeous.  She was wearing a pink coat that most likely wouldn’t have suited a lot of people, but did her, and she looked to be in her teens…which wasn’t saying much, considering her older sister was around _twenty_ - _five_ _hundred_ and only seemed to be somewhere in her early twenties.

Of course, if Casey didn’t know the truth she would have guessed their father to be in his late twenties. 

So there.

The third woman, though, was a changeling among the group.  She had honey-blonde hair and grey eyes, and was a little shorter than the other two.  She appeared to be a bit shy, and was more sombrely dressed than her sisters, but she gave Casey a sincere smile when she noticed her looking.

“With everything that’s going on,” Anwyn explained, “it’s best that none of us go around alone.”

That made sense.  Going in groups meant strength in numbers, and it was less likely that someone would make an attempt on someone that protected.

“Let me fetch our prisoner and put him in an interrogation room,” Walsh offered.  “Casey, you wanna show them to the observation area?”

“I can even offer coffee,” she said magnanimously, as Walsh headed down into the cell area.  “Fair warning…it’s not all that great.”

She motioned them forward as Captain Harkness-Jones barked a laugh.  “Tad’s a coffee snob, so that’s almost an insult to him.”

Jones rolled his eyes at her good-naturedly.  “I’ve had millennia dealing with sub-par coffee, Anwyn.  I think I can cope.”

“He really can’t,” Alyce cut in. 

“Not at all,” Robyn echoed. 

“The respect I get,” Jones sighed, sounding put-upon.  “Don’t have children, Detective Shraeger.  They only give grief.”

“Which is why Dad and Tad had seventeen of us,” Anwyn countered lightly.

Actually, their banter made Casey _want_ to have kids someday.  Maybe she and Davis ought to have a talk at some point…

Nah.  She was too invested in her career right at that moment in her life. 

Casey ushered them past the bullpen, and it took her a few moments to realise that everyone was up and staring at the viewscreen that had been installed against the far wall.  It was ostensibly there for briefing purposes, but they often had it turned on to random entertainment channels throughout the day, depending on who was the first one in and managed to get to the remote first.

It was on some sort of news broadcast, which had everyone’s attention.

Casey was inclined to ignore it, but then caught the scroll at the bottom of the screen.

_Attack on Imperial Palace by unknown attackers…explosion heard…_

It brought her to a sudden halt.

Someone had launched some sort of attack on Throneworld?

How was that even possible?

There was a gasp behind her, and she recalled just who had been accompanying her.  She glanced behind her, and noticed the same shock on their guests’ faces as was most likely on her own.

“That’s not possible,” Captain Harkness-Jones murmured.  “Tad, he’s not that powerful…”

What was she talking about?

“I know, sweetheart,” Professor Jones answered, just as…he was awestruck. 

Casey turned to get a better look at the image on the screen. 

It was a live feed from Throneworld, according to the newsreader.  It showed the Imperial Palace, a structure Casey had only seen on official newscasts before.  She knew the rumours about Throneworld: virtually impregnable, transmat-proof, and magically warded.  It was, according to everything she’d ever heard, impossible to gain access to unless you had the proper clearance.

However, it looked as if someone had managed.

The middle upper floors of the Palace had obviously suffered some sort of explosion.  Windows were broken out above the area of damage along the central spire, and the white building material was streaked with black, carbon scoring of some kind.  It looked incredibly unsteady, and Casey was certain it would have fallen…

If not for the enormous column of what resembled ice that appeared to be buttressing the upper parts of the building.

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

 

**_3 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Ddraig Llyn_ **

****

“Oh, I hate this!”

Lisa’s frustrated exclamation wasn’t completely unjustified in Merlin’s opinion.

They were outside, and Merlin was bundled up in his favourite coat against the February cold.  Of course, it wasn’t bothering Nicole, Rory, or Lisa at all; that just wasn’t fair.  He wished he could be more like his Dad, who would have been standing out there in his shirt sleeves; oh no, Merlin had to take after his mother in that respect. 

Boots crunching in the snow that had fallen overnight, Merlin approached his upset aunt, knowing that a lot of what Lisa was feeling was all tied up in her past life, and not a reflection on what they were attempting to teach her.  She’d never wanted magic, and now she was stuck with it…unless she wanted to be rid of her dragon form as well, which was what would happen if Merlin suppressed her power.  Lisa didn’t want to lose her true self, and so she was trying to learn, and was feeling as if she should be better at it than she was; since Morgana had known how to use magic, then Lisa felt she should be able to as well.

That wasn’t the case, and it was still very early days yet.  Lisa had only gotten her magic back a couple of days ago, and it took years to become proficient.

He’d tried to tell her that, and she’d listened…but Lisa still fell back onto her assertion that her previous knowledge should be giving her a step up on any student just coming into their magic.

It didn’t help that, as far as Merlin could tell, Lisa’s magic was a little different from what she’d had as Morgana.  It didn’t come quite as easily, nor did it seem as powerful, but Lisa was being stubborn about it.  It was as if, now that she’d decided to learn to use the magic that had been forced out, she’d embraced it with fury and hatred but was determined to get it under her control.

Still, between himself, Nicole, and Rory – and with some help from the Great Dragons – Merlin had hope that, eventually, Lisa would be able to handle the magic competently. 

It didn’t help though that Nicole was distracted by her new dragon form.

In that respect, Merlin wished that Nathan was there, instead of on Throneworld.  Nathan was her twin, and had dealt with his dragon form ever since he’d been born.  They were both so much alike, except for colour and a few other slight differences, that the wizard was positive that Nathan would have been able to help her get used to it faster.

Carys was helping, as much as she could.  Being a true Oriental dragon herself, Carys had been the one to show Nicole how to use the inherent magic within her new form to fly, even though she didn’t have wings.  The problem though was that Carys had also been with her dragon form since she’d been taken from her egg, and although they looked very much alike there were even larger differences between the cousins. 

Merlin was just glad that Alyce had gone with Grandtad Ianto to the Moon, because he was about to give in to her wheedling and see if he could trigger her dragon form like he had Nicole’s.  He wasn’t so sure that was such a good idea, really.

“I know it’s hard,” Rory tried to soothe her, “but you’re doing as well as you can, Aunt Lisa.”

“You’re right,” she sighed, shoulders slumping.  “I know you’re right.  And, in my head, I know I have a long way to go…Merlin keeps saying as much, over and over again.”  She gave him a brief smile to take the small sting out of her words. 

“Merlin does _sometimes_ know what he’s talking about,” Nicole teased.

He stuck his tongue out at her childishly, and she giggled.  “At least I’m not making you sit down and read the lessons I start out all novice wizards on,” he pointed out.

“Goddess, no,” Rory moaned.  “It was so _boring_.”

“But so necessary,” Nicole chided.

“And that’s coming from a magical instructor,” Merlin’s son quipped.  “I know you all like us to study _all the time_.” 

“If only to keep the students out of trouble.”

“Oh, I’m sure Merlin has all sorts of reading lined up for me,” Lisa commented.  “He just hasn’t gotten around to it yet.”

Merlin did, in fact, have several books in mind for her, but helping her gain a little more control was definitely the way to go first.  He could work on having her learn theory later.

He raised a hand and grasped his chest in mock horror.  “It’s like you know me.”

Lisa rolled her eyes at him, but refrained from saying anything else.

“Why don’t we head in for some coffee?” Merlin suggested.  “I don’t have an inner flame like the rest of you do to keep me freezing my arse off.”

“I could use a break,” Lisa agreed.  “Although with Tad gone, who knows what sort of coffee we’re going to get.  Or, Goddess forbid, Pryce made _tea_.”

She made it sound like a curse word, and Merlin chuckled.  “Don’t let Aunt Pryce hear you say that.  She’s about as bad as Grandtad when it comes to revenge on people who badmouth her drinks.”

“What…decaf tea?”  Rory gave a full body shudder.  “Dad, that’s plain _evil_.”

Merlin laughed at the appalled expression on his son’s face, matched by his aunt and his cousin.  “You’re right…that really _is_ evil.”

He began ushering them all into the house.  Merlin really did want to get out of the cold, and to be honest he really didn’t care what they had to drink, as long as it was hot.  The tip of his nose was cold, and he made a mental note to bring along the scarf Gran Samara had knitted for him the next time they were outside. 

Then he almost bumped into Lisa as she suddenly stopped in her tracks.

Before he could even react to that, Lisa was on her knees in the snow, clutching her head and moaning in what was obviously pain.  Instantly, Merlin was beside her, his trousers getting wet but he didn’t care as he wrapped an arm around her, asking her what was wrong.

“Explosion,” she gasped weakly.  “A bomb.  A tall building.  Crystal…Merlin, please make it stop…”

Merlin’s hearts’ beat thundered in his ears as he realised she was having some sort of vision.

It had been one of Morgana’s gifts, one that they’d all thought had been nightmares until he’d figured things out.  Morgana had been able to see bits of the future, often in ways that no one could really interpret until it was too late to do anything. 

It seemed as if this particular ability had also been reborn in her.

“Dad?” Rory asked, scared.

“Help me with her,” he ordered.  “I can’t get her into the house on my own.”  He might have been a little stronger than average, but Lisa was also heavier than she looked, and it would take both of them to get her on her feet and into the warmth, especially as she was in the throes of her vision.

Together, he and his son managed to lever the distressed Lisa to her feet and, Nicole opening the door for them, Merlin and Rory practically carried Lisa into the lounge. 

Clint had been sitting on the sofa, and he jumped up the moment he caught sight of them.  “What happened?” he demanded as they carefully helped Lisa sit down where his Uncle Clint had vacated.

“I’ll get some tea for her,” his Aunt Pryce volunteered, heading into the kitchen. 

Merlin didn’t even make a joke about it; tea really was the best thing for Lisa at the moment.  “Looks like she got more of Morgana’s abilities than we thought,” he answered, sitting next to her and taking her hand, stroking his thumb across her knuckles soothingly.  “She had some sort of vision.”

Clint cursed, then knelt in front of her, reaching out for Lisa’s other hand.  The two of them had always been close, and there had been times when Merlin had considered that Lisa was more Uncle Clint and Uncle Phillip’s daughter than Grandtad and Granddad’s.  She’d never taken that step, and Merlin was glad of it; he knew that his grandparents would have let her go if she’d asked, but it would have upset them.  Not that they would ever use emotions to get her to stay. 

But Lisa still called them Dad and Tad, and always would.

“Look at me, alright?” Merlin coaxed.  “Focus on me.”

Lisa lifted her head, eyes meeting his.  Gold had almost completely subsumed the silver-green of her irises, and there was pain and confusion in them as well.  “I don’t want this,” she whimpered.

“I know.”  He was hurting for her, knowing how much she hated this new part of herself.  “Look at me, and see the present.  Put the vision aside, and when you’re ready, try to tell us what you saw.”

Lisa took several deep breaths, and by the time Aunt Pryce came back with the tea – and Merlin could see how milky it was in the large mug that she held – she was calming down a little, the magic fading from her eyes. 

Clint released her hand so Lisa could take the mug that Pryce was offering.  She took a sip and then grimaced.  “Too sweet.”

“Sweet and milky are good for shock,” Aunt Pryce answered sternly.  “Drink it, Sis.”

“Here.”  Arthur had appeared, and he tucked an afghan about Lisa’s shoulders; it was obviously one that Gran Samara had knitted, the colourful yarn bright against Lisa’s dark clothing.  She gave Arthur a weak smile, and went back to sipping her tea.

Merlin could tell she was trying to gather her thoughts, and he let her be.  This had to have been more than just a shock to her, not having expected to suddenly regain this curse after Merlin had tried to go out of his way to explain that the magic Lisa had ended up with had been a little different from what she’d known as Morgana.  He really wished he could go back and tell himself to shut up about that now. 

Silence descended over the six of them.  Somewhere in the house, Merlin could hear a tapping; it was very light, and he could have almost sworn he was imagining it, but realised it was coming from upstairs.  A sudden sound of laughter also came from up there, adding to it the high-pitched chattering that was Daisy trying to get her point across.  More laughter, and it soothed Merlin knowing that there was something normal going on over their heads, on the upper floors.

After a few minutes, Lisa sighed.  “I don’t want this, Merlin.  But I know you can’t take it away…”

“I would if I could.  You know that.”

She nodded, swallowing another mouthful of her tea.  “I saw…a tower.  It was white and glass, and it had five spires, with a taller one in the middle.”

That…sounded familiar, and from Arthur’s hiss Merlin knew his mate must have recognised it.  Before he could track him, Arthur was moving around the couch, his wrist computer up and he was poking at the controls.

The holographic display switched on, and a building like Lisa had described floated into view just over his arm.  “Is this it?” Arthur asked.

Lisa nodded.  “What is it?”

“It’s the Imperial Palace,” his mate answered, sounding calm but Merlin could tell he wasn’t.

Of course, Merlin had recognised it at once.  He recalled what Lisa had said in the throes of the vision, and he shivered slightly.

“But there was an explosion there!” she exclaimed, her face paling slightly. 

“Can you tell us what sort of explosion?” Clint asked, his voice a little sharp.

Merlin couldn’t blame him for that; after all, Phillip and Nathan were currently on Throneworld, and if there was some sort of attack on the Palace…

He could see the moment Lisa realised it, as well.  She sucked in a breath, her eyes wide with horror.  “We have to warn them!”

“We don’t know anything yet, Aunt Lisa,” Arthur pointed out practically.  “What else did you see?  That might help us pinpoint what’s going to occur.”

She shook her head.  “There was crystal.  It was holding the Palace together.  I don’t know where it came from.  I’m sorry, Arthur.  That’s all I can tell you.”

“That’s fine.  I’m going to call Steve.  He’ll need to be on the lookout for anyone in the Palace with the sort of access needed to plant a bomb somewhere where it would do that sort of thing.”  He glanced at her once more, bringing the image of the Palace a little closer.  “Can you tell me where the explosion was?  That will narrow whatever search Steve will need to perform.”

Lisa was nodding.  She raised her finger, indicating one of the levels just underneath the Imperial residential areas.  “Here.”

“Alright.”  Arthur shut down his wrist computer, re-fastening the flap.  “I’ll use Dad’s office line to call Throneworld; it’s more secure.  We can’t risk any whisper of this getting out – “

He was interrupted by the chime of an incoming comm call.  Before Merlin could move, Clint turned on the wall screen, hitting the control a little harder than was strictly necessary. 

Melinda May’s face appeared on the screen.  Her expression was even more grave than usual.

Merlin’s hearts began to thump harder.  He knew what she was going to say before she got the first word out.

 _“There’s been an attack on the Imperial Palace,”_ Torchwood’s Second said without preamble.  _“I barely got word before the news feeds got a hold of the story.”_

“It was a bomb, wasn’t it.”  Arthur didn’t frame it as a question.

Melinda frowned.  _“How did you know?”_

“I had a vision,” Lisa answered, standing shakily.  “Only we thought it was a premonition.”

“You saw it as it was happening,” Merlin figured it out.

_“There’s something else.  I’m sending you a high-resolution image from the scene.”_

Melinda’s face vanished, to be replaced by a scan of the Imperial Palace.

Merlin gasped.  He couldn’t help it.

The middle tower of the Palace had borne the brunt of the damage.  The upper four floors looked untouched, except for the fact that all the windows seemed to have been broken out.  Several floors underneath were crumpled, the stone of the structure cracked and stained black with soot and scoring from the explosion.  The entire section looked as if it was about to collapse…

Except for the column of ice that appeared to be holding the entire tower together.

It glittered in Throneworld’s primary, stretching from a couple of floors below the damage, all the way to the top of the Palace.  It had to have been the only thing keeping the tower upright, and Merlin was stunned when he realised just what was causing it.

It had to be Phillip.

But he didn’t have that sort of power.

Then Merlin startled, because his Uncle Phillip hadn’t been that powerful _before_ the Library.

“That’s not possible,” Clint breathed in confusion, tainted with horror at what they were all seeing.

Arthur was the one who snapped out of his shock first. “Melinda, do you have any sort of casualty reports yet?”

The image vanished, replaced once more by Melinda.  _“Nothing yet.  I’m scrambling Torchwood resources now, and I’ll be leading relief efforts to Throneworld’s orbital station shortly.”_

“Good.  I have the override codes for the transmat shield.  I’ll meet you on planet.”

Melinda nodded, and then signed off, the screen going blank.

“I’m going with you,” Clint growled.  His tone brooked no argument.

“I wasn’t even going to suggest that you stay here,” Arthur commented.  “You and Nicole, get what you need and we’ll leave as soon as we can.”

“I’m going as well,” Lisa said determinedly.

“Me, too,” Merlin added.  “Phillip’s doing magic he shouldn’t have the strength to, and it’s going to drain him badly.  He’s going to need back-up on that front.  I can’t do the ice thing, but I have spells that can help buttress the Palace long enough to get everyone out.”

“Alright.”  Arthur looked at them all.  “Do what you need to do.  We leave immediately.”

 

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

 

**_3 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Imperial Throneworld_ **

****

“Well,” Danielle sighed, flinging herself down in a chair, “that went well.”

Phillip rolled his eyes at her.  “Next you’re going to say that you told me so.”

She gave him an impish grin.  “Would I do that?”

“Yes, you would.”

Once the ‘inquisition’ had ended, Phillip had found himself back up in the residential areas of the Palace, again a guest of Her Imperial Majesty and her family.  David was present this time, and so was Steve, and Phillip had wanted to discuss what had occurred with them, to get their opinion.

There had been only five votes for the audit.  Phillip had been a little surprised by that, if he was honest with himself.  He’d thought there would have been more, but then he liked to think he’d come off well in the questioning.  He must have to have had elicited the response he’d gotten.

Of course, Councillors Cole and Xanthi had voted for the audit.  After all, Cole had brought it up for vote, and Xanthi had seconded the measure.  The other three had been Councillors that Phillip hadn’t been personally familiar with, and he intended on getting opinions on what their motivations might have been.

Councillor Redmond had voted against the measure.  He was going to owe Guinevere an apology for doubting her.

He asked just who voted against him, and David was the one who answered.

“Councillors Thorne, Bandstra, and Hemmith.”  David took a seat on one of the sofas in the room.  He was already out of his official robes and was dressed comfortably in dark trousers and a long-sleeved tunic.  Phillip had taken the time to change out of his uniform as well, going with his favoured denims and sweater.  He hadn’t noticed that Daisy had snagged and pilled this one as well until he’d unpacked it, but it hardly mattered; these two were parents as well and understood that children took a toll on their clothing.

“Councillor Thorne is from Trafusis,” the Imperial Consort went on.  “She has several businesses there, from what I understand.”

“Trafusis has come up in our investigations,” Phillip commented.  He went on to explain how they’d tracked the pair who’d betrayed Sabrina to the Dragon Slayer, and that Jack, the Doctor, and Cadi were on their way there now to intercept them.

“The planet is a trading hub,” David went on.  “It’s not as much as a free-for-all like places such as Smuggler’s Moon, and it’s under Imperial treaty, but it’s certainly a world I can see a couple of criminals going to ground on.  As you know, there have been slavery rings that pop up there quite frequently.”

Phillip did.  He’d even sent Sabrina in to investigate on one rather memorable occasion. 

“But that doesn’t mean that Thorne is affiliated with HYDRA,” Steve pointed out, “only that she might not like Torchwood for some reason.”

Phillip had to concede his point.  Perhaps something that Sabrina had investigated there had gotten on Thorne’s bad side?

“Councillor Bandstra is from Cryszal,” David continued. “He has a dislike of powerful organisations, and even rails against the Empire on occasion.  I can see him voting for the audit just because he doesn’t trust Torchwood, since he doesn’t trust any group larger than five.”

“And he’s an Imperial Councillor?” Phillip asked, somewhat amazed by David’s description of the man.

“He’s actually interim,” Danielle added.  “The seat was previously held by Councillor Zahn, but she passed about a month ago.  Natural causes, so don’t give me that look, Phillip…Zahn was ancient, even by her race’s standards.  Bandstra stepped in, but the seat itself is up for vote in a couple of months, and I doubt Bandstra will keep it.”

He held up a hand in capitulation but really, it didn’t take a suspicious mind to consider the idea that Bandstra had murdered the former Councillor in order to gain the seat. 

“And, finally…Councillor Hemmith,” the Consort concluded.  “Hir is from Porisan, one of the frontier worlds.  The Porisi are a rather new addition to the Empire, and to be honest I don’t think hir even knows all that much about Torchwood.  I would lay odds that Cole got to hir and spread some nasty stories about you and the Institute, in order to gain hir vote.”

“I’m pretty sure that Councillor Cole hadn’t thought the vote would turn out the way it did,”  
 Steve said.  He was standing by the faux fireplace, his collar of his own tunic undone in his version of relaxing. 

Phillip leaned back in his seat, considering.  “I…don’t know about that, Steve.”

Danielle pinned him with her pale eyes.  “What’s going on in that Machiavellian brain of yours, Phillip?”

He felt oddly gratified by her description of him, and so he shared his own thoughts.  “I’m fairly certain that Cole would have thought there would have been more support for his motion, but I honestly don’t think he ever considered that he’d _win_.”

The immortal had had a little time to think as he’d changed his clothes, and it had struck him that there had been no way for Cole to have won.  Yes, he had to have expected more votes for the audit than it had actually received, but there really had been nothing Cole could have done to have actually gotten the audit to pass. 

He had three pairs of eyes on him as he went on.  “Councillor Cole had to have known that Torchwood had far more support and that there was no way he was going to get his way.  Even if there’d been enough for it to actually go through, it would have been a waste of time.  Anything that would have been discovered could have simply been passed off as Torchwood running its own investigation.”

Danielle smirked.  “Does this mean you really _have_ been misusing Torchwood resources?”

He snorted.  “Plus, Councillor Cole’s wife is an ex-Torchwood employee.  She would have clued him in on just what lengths Torchwood would go to in order to investigate the death of one of our own, and Sabrina was definitely one of our own beyond the fact that I’m related to her by mating.  Anything they might have discovered in some sort of audit would have been reported as being part of that investigation, with nothing to point back to me.”

“And even if you’d been found incompetent,” David mused, “there are others who would have taken up the Directorship, including Second May.  But there was no chance of that, not with the lengths you went to in order to recertify yourself for duty.”

“Exactly.”  He didn’t say that he’d done just that because he was uncertain of himself and how the second dosing of GH325 would have affected him.  The last thing Torchwood needed was a Director who started carving symbols all over every available surface.  Hells, he didn’t want to go through that again himself, never mind the Institute.  The first time had been bad enough, and he’d been juggling SHIELD at the time.

“So,” Steve mused, “even if he’d won, he would have lost.”

“Exactly.  There is simply nothing he could pin on Torchwood that would lessen its power in the Empire.  Cole’s move was a complete waste of time; both mine, and the Council’s.”

“Wait,” David slid forward in his seat, his eyes narrowing.  Phillip could practically _see_ him thinking things through.  “Then what was the point of convincing Xanthi to summon you here?  Because that’s what had to have happened: he had to have somehow talked Xanthi into cooperating.”

“Not necessarily.  Halistra has been unfriendly toward Torchwood ever since the dust-up with the Andralan.  Halistra might not have really gotten along with Andrala, but they’re still sister worlds.  And Andrala’s economy came close to collapsing during the embargo that the Adjudicator’s Guild placed on the planet in their ruling against them in the Rhys Williams case.  Xanthi wouldn’t have needed much motivation to try to get even for everything.  All Cole had to do was plant the seeds, and Xanthi would have jumped at the chance to make a strike against the Institute…which is me, at the moment.  It certainly wouldn’t hurt that I was involved in that mess as well.”

Steve looked thoughtful.  Phillip knew his former protégé was putting it all together, and he could tell the moment it came to Steve, much in the same way it had for Phillip.  “They wanted you here.  It’s the only theory that fits the facts.”

The ice mage gave Steve an acknowledging nod.  “I don’t have enough pieces of the puzzle yet as to why Cole and Xanthi wanted me to be here, at this particular time.”

“Some sort of distraction?” Danielle suggested.

Phillip shrugged.  “Could be.  But distract me from what?  They can’t strike at my family; they’re all at Ddraig Llyn, and the Great Dragons won’t let anyone come into the valley that might have not-so-nice intentions.”

“Except for Nathan,” David pointed out.  “He’s here on Throneworld.”

“True.  But they had no idea I’d be bringing anyone with me.  So, I doubt Nathan is in any danger.”

All of this was conjecture on his part, but it fit.  The only thing missing was the motivation: just what was the endgame?  What did Cole hope to gain…and yes, he thought Benjamin Cole had to have been behind all this.  He had an axe to grind, and would have had the balls to make such a move.

He’d thought it was a power play, an attempt to get something over on Torchwood and to put the Institute firmly under the Council’s collective thumbs.  Now, Phillip was beginning to doubt that.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.  Phillip turned as it opened to reveal Prince Joshua and his Cassiopeian tutor, who smiled indulgently as the young heir ran toward his father, hugging him tightly, and then doing the same to his mother.  The young alien bowed and closed the door, although Phillip doubted anyone but him was paying attention.

Steve collected his own hug, and then Joshua presented himself before Phillip, who obliged and leaned forward to wrap his arms around the prince.  “Where’s Nathan?” Joshua asked once their embrace ended.

“He’s out sightseeing,” Phillip answered.  “He’s never been to Throneworld, and I thought he might enjoy it while we were all tied up in our meeting.”

Joshua was too young to really understand all the politics surrounding the Imperial Court, although Phillip doubted he would remain so for long.  He’d need to learn all the ins and outs if he expected to become Emperor after Danielle stepped down, which Phillip hoped would be a very long time before that occurred.

“He’s not alone, is he, Director Phillip?” the prince wanted to know.

“No,” Steve answered for Phillip.  “I sent First Shieldsman Charlton with him.”

Joshua nodded sombrely.  “He’s a nice man.  He’ll look after Nathan, like he looked after me.”

Phillip knew from the introduction he’d received that Charlton had been one of the Shieldsmen that had been tasked with guarding Joshua while he’d gone to school, and that he’d been instrumental in stopping HYDRA from kidnapping the child.  He’d been injured during another assignment, and was currently on light duty, so acting as an escort and guide for Nathan had been an ideal assignment.  It certainly hadn’t hurt that Charlton had expressed his pleasure at being put on Nathan-watching duty.  The First Shieldsman had most likely been bored with hanging about the Playground during his convalescence.  While the wound hadn’t been all that bad, Steve was known to be a compulsive mother hen where his people were concerned.

“They should be back soon,” Phillip assured the boy.  “You can see him then.”

Now that the Council meeting was done, the ice mage knew he and Nathan wouldn’t be staying all that much longer.  There was still too much to do, and he didn’t want to be away from his family any longer than absolutely necessary.  Especially with Skylar having been hurt, and Daisy being so very young.

“Why don’t I call Charlton over the comms and have them start to head back?” Steve suggested.  “It’s about time for lunch anyway.”

Danielle nodded.  “That’s a good idea – “

Her words were cut off by a muffled sound, accompanied by the building around them shaking violently.  The room’s lone window cracked across with a sharp chime of supposedly unbreakable glass.

Phillip was on his feet even as David gave a muffled curse, and Danielle gasped as the Palace shook once more, even worse than before, furniture shifting and things falling from shelves.  He knew immediately what had happened, and he gave Joshua over to his parents as he said, “That was an explosion.”

“That’s impossible,” Danielle shook her head, even as she was clutching her son to her, David wrapping both arms around them.  “The Palace is shielded _and_ warded!”

The floor shuddered again, and this time there was a definite tilt in it.  The only thing that kept Phillip from slipping along the angle of tilt were his heavy-duty combat boots. 

“It had to have gone off several floors down,” Steve rapped.  He’d propped himself against the fireplace with one hand, and the other was up to the comm in his ear.  “And the comms are jammed.”

Joshua whimpered as the floor slanted to an even greater degree, and without seeing the damage Phillip knew the part of the tower they were in was in danger of collapsing.  There wasn’t any time to get to safety…if they could, because the lift would most certainly have been disabled by the damage done to the tower in the explosion.

They were going to die, unless something could be done.  He thought of Clint, and his children, and didn’t want to lose them, wondering if this was just the sort of thing to kill him permanently.

Suddenly, in response to his thoughts, Phillip’s magic roared up from within him.  He could feel the ice racing along his nerve endings, needing to escape, to do something to save them all.

Without thinking, he let gravity slam him into the cracking wall, trusting that Steve would see to the Imperial family. 

The moment his hands touched the wall, his magic rushed out, as if it had a mind of its own, telling Phillip what he needed to do in order to save them all, for him to be able to get back to his family.

The wall iced over almost instantly. 

And Phillip prayed that he would be strong enough to hold.

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

 

**_3 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Imperial Throneworld_ **

****

Clint didn’t think he’d ever been quite so terrified in his entire life.  Not even Phillip being missing at the Library had made him feel this level of terror, because his mate had had the Doctor with him and they were both dangerous men in their own right.

But this…

The moment they set foot on Throneworld, in the restricted transmat at the Playground, his stomach lurching and head spinning from transport through the barrier protecting the planet, Clint wanted to go to the Palace immediately.  Because Merlin had been right: his mate was using an amount of magic that Phillip shouldn’t have access to, and there was no telling if they had enough time to rescue everyone in the tower before that magic gave out.

Steve’s Second, Valentina Fosse, was waiting for them, and she saluted Arthur immediately.  “Sir, I have transport waiting…”

“We won’t need it,” Arthur growled. 

Second Fosse blinked once, and then, as if finally realising just who she was dealing with, nodded.  “This way, then.”

They followed her out of Shieldsman headquarters.  Clint felt a hand take his, and he glanced over at Nicole who was pale, but her face was determined.  Lisa looped her arm through his free one, and he was glad to have his daughter and sister with him.  Lisa looked just as terrified as Clint felt; but then, she’d always been very close to Phillip, and she was about to see just what she’d been shown in her vision.

The visions were something new, though.

He didn’t know what to do with them, honestly.  It wasn’t as if she’d had it _before_ the attack had happened; that would have been dead useful. 

Then he shuddered at the word, dead.  He couldn’t think that.

The group emerged from the Playground, and the moment he had room Clint was shifting into his dragon form.  Arthur was right beside him, his red scales glittering under Throneworld’s star; following closely were Lisa, her black scales lightly filigreed with the new gold; and Nicole, still not used to her own dragon form, slightly graceless in her movements.

Once Merlin had clambered up onto Arthur’s back, wedged between the ridges that curved down Arthur’s back, the four dragons took to the air.

Ahead, the Imperial Palace loomed, and with Clint’s excellent vision he could see the ice that was still buttressing the crumbling middle tower together, keeping it from collapsing.  Clint’s heart lurched in his chest; as long as that ice remained, Phillip was still alive, but they would need to do something soon.

He had no idea if the Imperial family and any Palace workers who’d been trapped inside were alright, though.

The destruction looked a lot worse in person than it had on the newsfeeds.  A large chunk of the centre tower had been blown out, and it was currently being welded back together with blue-white ice, as clear as crystal.  He could certainly understand why Lisa had interpreted it as such, after her vision.

A trickle of smoke rose from one of the many broken windows, but it seemed as if any fires inside were out.  Most likely they’d been smothered by the magical ice that was holding the structure together and kept it from toppling into the ornate gardens below the Palace.  Large bits of outer wall were blackened and streaked with soot from the explosion that had rocked the tower, and all of the walkways that had led in between the five spires were broken and far too damaged to use safely. 

All along one side of the Palace, ice ran all the way up to the roof, and then to about halfway down the building.  It looked solid, but Clint had to wonder just how true that was.  All of that ice…and his mate was creating it and holding it in place.  It seemed impossible. 

Over the wind that whistled in his ears, Clint heart Arthur roaring.  He joined in, as well as Lisa and Nicole, letting their fear and rage echo over the buildings they were flying over, and he could barely make out the residents of Throneworld below staring up at them through the prickling of furious tears as they passed overhead. 

An answering roar sounded ahead, and Nathan flew into view.

Clint’s son had been circling the tower, probably looking to see if he could find Phillip or anyone that they might have been able to save.  Nathan flew straight toward them, then hovered in place when he got close enough, waiting for them.  Clint was pitifully glad to see his son, and would have hugged him if they hadn’t been flying.  Nathan must not have been in the tower at the time, or else he’d been far enough away from the destruction to get out.

“Let’s set down and you can tell us what you saw,” Arthur ordered once they’d reached the young dragon. 

Nathan nodded. “There’s an area set up a block away from the Palace.”

“Lead the way.”

They followed Nathan, and were landing in a large, open space on the main thoroughfare, traffic blocked off by large barricades being patrolled by ImpSec troops, heavily armed against intrusion.  Crowds of rubberneckers had gathered, and that wasn’t a surprise; people tended to do that sort of thing when it came to disasters like this one.

Clint was well aware that they were being filmed by several news crews that were also just past the barricades, but he ignored it.  He had better things to do with his time than worrying if he ended up on the newsfeeds.

Once they were all on the ground, the five dragons transformed back into their human bodies, and Clint also ignored the gasp from the crowd, instead following Nathan toward a large temporary structure that had been set up on the street corner.  It was bustling with rescue workers and military, the distinctive black of the Shieldsmen dotted through the drab khakis of the various arms of the services who had answered the call to come so quickly.

Inside the field base, were those supposedly in command of the rescue efforts.  Clint didn’t really recognise any of them; there were officers from ImpSec and Fleet and Army, and a couple of people that were most likely high-ranking government officials, judging from their civilian attire.  A Shieldsman was currently standing up to every single one of them, stating in implacable tones that Second Fosse was on her way and would take over command.

The moment he caught sight of them, however, the man saluted.  “Director Pendragon,” he greeted. 

Arthur returned the salute.  “First Shieldsman…”

“Brant Charlton, Sir.”  He shifted his feet, settling into parade rest.  “I’m ranking Shieldsman on post, but I’m more than happy to turn over command to you.”

There was some grumbling about that, but Torchwood carried a lot of weight in the Empire.  Plus, Arthur was the Once and Future King, which put him just a shade lower than the actual Imperial family in a lot of eyes.  Not that Arthur would ever use that power; he’d been quite happy with Torchwood, and even happier now that he was retired.  Clint knew that Arthur had been just as surprised as anyone when that had turned out to be true.

Clint could tell that Arthur didn’t want to take command, just from the way his hand flexed on Excalibur’s hilt, but would do it anyway.  “Thank you, Shieldsman Charlton.  I will until Second Fosse arrives.  Right now, I want to hear what Nathan Jones-Coulson has to say, since he just came from scouting out the Palace.”

Charlton nodded, looking somewhat grateful.  He was an older human, with reddish hair and pale eyes, and for some reason Clint thought he’d met the man somewhere before.  Maybe on one of his and Phillip’s visits to the Palace…

Nathan looked a little nervous being called out in front of such a crowd, some of them hostile, but Clint nodded to him in encouragement and Nicole tucked an arm around her twin, obviously very glad to see him. “There are definitely survivors.  I saw several, mostly on the floors above where the explosions were.  I also saw Steve…Grand Master Rogers, sorry…in one of the broken windows three levels above the blast hole.  He looked unhurt, and he waved at me.”

There was an audible sigh of relief.  “And the Imperial family?” someone demanded.  It was one of the civilians.

“I didn’t see them,” Nathan answered.

“Chances are, the Grand Master was with them and Director Coulson at the time,” Charlton spoke up respectfully.  “If he survived, then they did as well.”

“Well, we know Phillip did,” Merlin piped up.  “That’s his magic holding up the building.”

That set off another round of whispers among those present.  It wasn’t common knowledge that Clint’s mate was an ice mage; yes, they all knew Phillip was immortal, but this would have been news to most of the people in the temporary headquarters.

Clint wasn’t so sure Phillip would appreciate being outed by Merlin, but at the same time he’d done a good job of outing himself by keeping the Palace from collapsing.  Still, he was hoping that this wouldn’t cause any more issues than what was already going on, although he knew his mate would be able to handle it.

That he shouldn’t _have_ to handle it certainly crossed Clint’s mind.

“I’ve also had reports from within the Palace,” Shieldsman Charlton spoke up. “The lifts are down.  Not that they would have worked all that well anyway, what with the condition the residential areas are in, but we can’t get people out that way.   Some of the stairwells are blocked with rubble, and some with ice, but we think we can get in through here.” 

There was a holographic representation of the Imperial Palace up on a makeshift holotable, and the Shieldsman pointed out two stairways that looked to be intact.

“The problem being, of course, is that the Palace is so damned tall.  It’s going to take a while to get rescue teams in.”

Arthur was nodding.  “True.  But we can get in through the roof…”  He twisted the blueprints around, showing an access hatch that blinked red against the blue of the hologram.

“It may have escaped your notice, _Director_ ,” someone spoke up.  It was a Halistran, and he didn’t look happy to be there.  He also made Arthur’s title sound like a curse word.  “But we don’t have any sort of aerial transport on Throneworld.  It’s a no-fly zone.”

Clint could tell that Arthur was barely containing the eyeroll his nephew wanted to give.  “And it may have escaped _your_ notice, Sir, that you have five dragons here, and we’re perfectly capable of flying to the top of the Palace and getting anyone out who can make it that far.”

Oh, but Arthur really _could_ be a royal prat, and Clint loved it.  That tone was perfect; it relayed the fact that Arthur felt the being he was dealing with was an idiot without coming right out and saying it.

Whoever the Halistran was, he got that tone, and bristled at it.  However, before he could come back at Arthur with something that would either be completely cutting or make him sound like an idiot, a human male stepped up beside him and put a hand on his shoulder, then whispered something in his ear.  The Halistran subsided, but didn’t look very happy about it.

“How do we get word to the ones in the Palace to head up to the roof?” Charlton asked politely.  “Comms are currently down.”

Arthur gave him a wide grin.  “Why, we shout at them, of course.”

The Shieldsman huffed a laugh.  “Of course we do.”

Then Arthur turned to Merlin.  “You said you had something that might help with keeping the Palace from collapsing?”

The wizard nodded.  “I think, between the three of us,” he motioned to himself, and then Nicole and Lisa, “we can work something out.”

“But Merlin,” Lisa protested.

Clint turned to her, taking her hand.  “You can do this,” he murmured.  “I have faith in you, Lisa.”

His words had her straightening her shoulders and almost standing at attention.  She nodded once.  “For Phillip.”

He wanted to hug her, and so he did.  “For Phillip,” he whispered into her hair.

Lisa hadn’t made it any secret that Phillip closely resembled her dragon father’s human form, from what she could remember from before her family had placed her in the magical egg that had held her for millennia, until Merlin had called her forth.  It had given the pair a bond that was different from what she had with Jack and Ianto and, if anything, it was even stronger than her feelings for her adoptive parents.  Clint knew she would do everything in her power to bring him out of that wrecked tower, no matter what.

“Uncle Clint,” Arthur said gently. 

Clint looked up over Lisa’s head, meeting his nephew’s eyes. Knowing what Arthur was going to ask for before he said a thing.

“You, Nathan, and I will be the ones to take victims from the roof.  But I’m going to need your eyes to see things that I might miss, especially people inside the Palace that might not be able to get out on their own.”

“They don’t call me Hawkeye because I enjoy ancient Earth war comedies,” he quipped.  Of all his family, Clint did have the best eyesight, an actual holdover from the first life that he could remember as a sharpshooter. 

Arthur didn’t deign to respond to that.  “Nathan, if the tower proves to be too unsteady, you’re going to be our first line of rescue, since you’re the best hoverer we have.  Clint and I can snatch people up in our claws, but the worst injured…we can’t risk hurting them even more.”

Nathan nodded determinedly.  “One of the few times I’m glad I don’t have wings.”

“We can also each take some rope,” Clint suggested, “for those who are ambulatory enough to climb.”

“Good idea,” Arthur approved.  “Aunt Lisa and Nicole, I’ll let you decide which of you carries Merlin with you – “

“Aunt Lisa,” Nicole piped up. “I’m still a bit unsteady with flying, and I don’t want to risk dropping him.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t,” Merlin replied. 

“I’m not!” she denied hotly.  “And I don’t want Arthur mad at me for getting you hurt, even if it was by accident.”

“It makes sense for me to,” Lisa added soothingly, “and not just because I’ve been flying since I was born.  I might need the support with my magic.  Nicole, you’re more proficient than I am.”

Nicole nodded in agreement to that argument.

“First Shieldsman Charlton.”  The Shieldsman in question jerked to attention.  “Second Fosse is most likely almost here.  When she arrives, have her send some of her most experienced rescue workers into the Palace.  We need to make certain everyone is out.”

“Yes, Director Pendragon.”

“Then let’s do this.”

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

 

**_3 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Armstrong Dome_ **

**_The Moon_ **

****

Ianto couldn’t tear his eyes away from the newsfeed of the damaged Imperial Palace, and of the towering pillar of ice that seemed to be the only support keeping the structure intact.

Phillip had never been that powerful.  It looked as if that middle tower was only still standing due to the ice that had formed about the obvious bomb damage and up one entire side.  Ianto saw that and wondered if this boost of power had to do with the dark magic that had infused him, and had nearly killed him not that long ago.

He knew that, despite the front his son-by-mating had put on, that Phillip hadn’t really recovered completely from his brush with death.  That the nightmares he suffered had been bad enough that he hadn’t been sleeping all that well.  Add to that a new baby, and Ianto was aware that Phillip had been running close to empty for a while now.  Clint had expressed concern over it, and had been glad that they could stay at home for a bit…until Phillip had been summoned to Throneworld. 

The dragon was frankly worried for Phillip, and that was before he seemed to have somehow gained enough magic to keep a large building from collapsing.

“Tad,” Anwyn whispered, her hand on his arm.

She was just as worried, perhaps even moreso.  Phillip had been like an uncle to Anwyn when she was child, before he’d become her brother by being Clint’s mate.  It had been her idea that he be asked if he wanted to take over Torchwood.  So, seeing that on the screen…yes, his eldest daughter had to have been frightened nearly out of her mind.

And yet, they had an audience.  The rest of the police officers of the Second Precinct were gathered around, watching as events spooled out onscreen.  Ianto knew that his child wanted to run to Throneworld now, but wouldn’t let herself cave under that pressure, not when they had things to do themselves.

Ianto wanted to do the same, but they had to trust the rescue services to their jobs.  Even as they watched, he could see activity around the damaged tower.  Someone was setting up a mobile command post, blocking off traffic about the Palace in order to keep the gawkers out. 

And then, he caught sight of Nathan.

His grandson stood out, with his half-human, half-Margath, features, his white hair a beacon in the crowd.  Ianto’s shoulders slumped in relief that Nathan hadn’t been within the Palace during the attack; the Shieldsman that accompanied him into the temporary headquarters must have been his escort, he’d most likely been out sightseeing while Phillip had been in front of the Imperial Council.

He heard Anwyn let out a breath, and both Robyn and Alyce looked equally relieved to see their nephew safe.  He reached over and clutched the hand that Anwyn had grasping his bicep, in order to comfort and to be comforted in return.

It seemed like only seconds before Nathan was once again out of the command post.  As they watched, he took on his dragon shape and launched himself into the sky; the person holding the camera must have thought that was an interesting occurrence, because the shot tracked Nathan’s route across the sky and toward the ruined Palace, his dark scales obvious against the glittering ice.

_One of the Star Dragons is on the scene…son of the Director of the Torchwood Institute…_

It wasn’t exactly a secret that Nathan was Phillip’s adopted son, but Ianto was still surprised that the newsfeed had picked that particular item up to broadcast. 

“Who could have done that?” he heard someone – most likely one of the coppers – asked softly, in as much shock as anyone else. 

“I wanna know about what’s holding up the wreckage,” another voice added. 

“It looks like crystal.”

“More like ice,” Detective Walsh’s voice entered into the conversation.

Ianto thought that was a rather astute observation, but didn’t say anything.

The entire room was silent.  Ianto couldn’t keep his eyes from the screen, knowing he should have been doing something but also realising he was too far away and without the override codes he would need to even get onto Throneworld through the transmat shield.  Yes, they could have arrived on the orbital station, but at this point he was afraid they’d just be in the way of rescue efforts.

He wondered if Jack was seeing this, or if he was away from any sort of communications.  If they were still in the TARDIS heading toward Trafusis, then it wouldn’t be until they arrived, and even then if they were focussed on their mission he might not notice any sort of newsfeeds right away.

Torchwood had to be seeing this, however.  Melinda would have been alerted the moment anything happened on Throneworld, and was most likely mobilising relief efforts.  That meant that, at the very least, Clint knew as well, and Ianto couldn’t see his son staying away when his mate was in danger.

Almost as if summoned, a group of dragons touched down outside the command centre.  Ianto felt a bit of relief flood him as his recognised Arthur, Lisa, Clint, and Nicole, with Nathan with them as well as Merlin, who slid off Arthur’s back with the ease of practice. 

_More Star Dragons have arrived…One is Arthur Pendragon, former Director of the Torchwood Institute, also known as the Once and Future King…With him is his mate, Merlin Williams-Song, founder of the Magic School on New Avalon…The purple dragon must be Clint Jones-Coulson, mate of the current Director of Torchwood, Phillip Coulson…This lends credence to rumours that Phillip Coulson was in the Palace at the time of the attack…No word on who the black dragon is…Returning is Nathan Jones-Coulson, and it is believed that this is his twin, Nicole Jones-Coulson, although this is the first time her dragon form is on display…No word as to what’s going on within the Palace yet, but with Torchwood on the scene it is assumed they will be aiding rescue efforts…_

As he read the newsfeed that scrolled across the bottom of the image of the damaged Palace, Ianto felt himself relaxing little by little.  Still, he wanted to be on site with the rest of the members of his family, even though he knew he could trust them to do what needed to be done.

_Still no sign of the Imperial family, and it is believed they were also in the Palace at the time of the explosion…No one has come forward to claim responsibility for this heinous attack…_

It was HYDRA.  Ianto was certain of that.  It was proof that they, somehow, had someone close enough to the Imperial family to actually plant a bomb; although, the dragon had to wonder why now, when they would have had plenty of opportunity to do so before.

“Hey!’ Someone exclaimed.  “That guy looks like Walsh!”

Walsh didn’t say anything, but then he most likely was just a bit distracted by events.

“This is them, isn’t it?” Shraeger said, so close to Ianto’s ear that he jumped a little.  She’d managed to sneak up on him, but then he was just a bit distracted.  “This is HYDRA.”

“I’m positive it is,” Ianto murmured. 

“But how?  Everyone knows the Palace is shielded and warded against attack…”  Shraeger’s voice faded out, as if she was reconsidering her words.  “You think it was an inside job?”

The dragon was impressed by her leap of logic.  “It’s something we’ve been considering…that HYDRA might have found someone within the Palace and converted them to their cause.  I think this confirms it.”  Or found a reincarnation and had awakened their memories, which he didn’t say aloud.  He knew that Gareth had explained that to both coppers, but he wasn’t certain if that had strained their incredulity too much.

“We want in,” the detective said.  “Walsh and me…we want in.”

“I think you’ll find that you’re already in it, if the attack on you is any indication.  And I’m sorry for that, Detective Shraeger.  When we suggested that you keep investigating we honestly didn’t think you’d find anything, even though we’d hoped.  And now, you and Detective Walsh are targets as well.”

This really had been the last thing anyone had wanted.  Walsh and Shraeger were innocent bystanders, being targeted now simply for doing their jobs.  Ianto felt incredibly guilty that he and Jack hadn’t thrown their weight around and gotten them off the official investigation, but this hadn’t been a Torchwood matter so there really hadn’t been a reason to.  And, to be honest, Ianto hadn’t even considered they’d find anything, even though he’d been hoping they would.

Admitting to himself that they wouldn’t know about the reincarnation of one of the knights that had murdered his family and had attempted to kill him was somehow behind this without the detectives was hard to do, but it was true.

If anything happened to either of them it would be on Ianto’s conscience.  He was sure he couldn’t handle that knowledge easily.

The dragon turned to look at the detective.  Shraeger was so unbelievably young compared to anyone else in his family, and painfully determined and sincere.  In many ways, she reminded him of Anwyn, and he gave her a small smile as he gazed into her dark eyes. “I’m going to approve for Robyn and Alyce to stay behind here when Anwyn and I leave.   They’ll be your liaisons with the family, as well as back-up in case HYDRA comes calling again.”  Her eyes narrowed and she looked as if she was going to argue, but Ianto said, “I’m not doing this because I think you and your partner are helpless, Detective Shraeger.  I’m doing this because HYDRA will not stop, and with Robyn and Alyce around they can take steps that you and Detective Walsh are constrained by human and Imperial law from doing if it comes down to it.  My daughters will be following _dragon_ law, and there are certain things they can do that they can claim under their Vows and Pacts to family and vengeance.”

She was scrutinising him closely, and Ianto held her eyes, needing her to see the truth of his words in them.  Yes, he did want to protect the partners, but at the same time what he was telling her was honest.  His children would be able to take actions within dragon law that weren’t on the Imperial books, and he needed to know that they would be free to act within those laws.

There was a small voice at the back of his mind telling that, another reason for this was to get Alyce away from Merlin for a bit; while she’d quit bothering him about bringing out her dragon form, Ianto knew it would only be a matter of time before she mentioned it again, and they still weren’t certain there would be any lasting effects in Nicole.

“Alright,” she finally capitulated, just in time for Anwyn to regain his attention by calling to him.

His eyes flickered over to his eldest; the grasp on his arm had gotten tighter, and he turned back to the newsfeed playing on the screen.

It showed the family members on Throneworld coming out of the command post that had been set up. As everyone watched, everyone with a dragon form transformed, and Ianto was surprised to see Merlin climb up onto Lisa’s back instead of Arthur’s.  Then it came to him: they were most likely going to be using magic to help Phillip and to rescue those people still in the upper floors of the Palace, so it made sense for his grandson to be with Lisa, who was still uncertain in her magic, than with Arthur, who Ianto surmised had a plan in mind for himself and the other non-magic users there. 

_It seems as if there might be some sort of rescue plan in place…The Star Dragons are leaving and heading toward the Palace…It remains to be seen just what that plan is…_

The camera followed the dragons as they arose into the air, but dragged back downward to show several Shieldsmen arrive; Ianto recognised Valentina Fosse, Steve’s Second, at the head of the group, which was carrying with them various pieces of rescue equipment: ropes, excavating devices, and one very large medical kit with the eponymous red ‘X’ on it.

_The Imperial Shieldsmen’s Second-in-Command, Valentina Fosse, has arrived on scene with a dozen personnel…We shall see what sort of…There is movement around the tent, as several other Shieldsmen have joined their brethren…It seems as if a conference is going on…_

The so-called conference didn’t last long.  One of the Shieldsmen that had come out of the command centre spoke a few words to Second Fosse, who nodded in agreement.  With that, every single one of the Shieldsmen headed toward the entrance to the Imperial Palace, a set of ornate doors that appeared undamaged, but wide open, most likely from the panicked exodus from inside when the explosion had rocked the building.  They disappeared inside.

The camera view changed, angled upward to give the best view of the dragons working around the wrecked areas of the middle tower.  Roaring could be heard over the feed, and Ianto could make out Clint and Arthur, telling whoever was in the tower to head to the roof as soon as they possibly could.

Nathan hovered near one of the broken windows just over the explosion area, and it was obvious he was speaking to someone within.  One of the main benefits of not having wings was that it made Nathan that much more graceful in flight, and able to hover almost motionless for long periods of time.  Ianto was able to hover himself, but it was usually somewhat turbulent as his wings still needed to move, and he couldn’t stay in one place too long.

Nicole didn’t look as graceful as her brother did, but then she’d only had her dragon form for such a very short time.  Still, she was trying admirably, darting about Lisa as his daughter took her own place close to the largest section of ice: the one caking the hole in the Palace, where it was apparent the blast had taken out one entire area of the Palace, and the very place that was the most in need of support. 

Merlin was speaking to both of them, and as Ianto watched his grandson-by-mating raised his hands and called upon his magic.

Nicole joined him, as did Lisa, and Merlin took the magic they were using and wove it into something stronger, golden light appearing around the ice patch, crawling up the side of the building. 

“What are they doing?” someone asked, their voice hushed.

“They’re using magic to take some of the weight of the tower away from the ice that’s keeping it from collapsing,” Ianto answered. 

“That’s ice?” a woman’s voice said incredulously.  “How is that holding up that whole building?”

“Magical ice,” Anwyn spoke up. “That’s Phillip’s work.  He’s trying to keep the Palace from collapsing.”

Ianto wasn’t sure it was such a good idea to admit that it was Phillip doing that.  After all, they really hadn’t gone out of their way advertising that Phillip had magic, mainly because he was so uncomfortable with it. 

“Phillip?” Walsh enquired, “as in Phillip Coulson, Torchwood’s Director?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Anwyn said proudly.  Then her voice sank into worry.  “But we’ve never seen him use this amount of power before.  It can’t be easy for him.”

“Which is why the others are trying to remove some of the pressure off of him,” Ianto added.  “They’re going to need to do that so he can actually leave the Palace without it collapsing entirely.  He’s the only thing keeping it from doing that now.”

At that, the tension within the precinct ratcheted upward, but Ianto could tell it wasn’t in a bad way.  Each and every one of them had to be considering what it would be like if Phillip lost control before they could get everyone out. 

The camera that was showing events had to have had a really good telephoto lens, as it was able to zoom in on what was going on at the Palace, and Ianto was able to watch as Arthur, Nathan, and Clint all headed toward the roof, and the plan they had to have in place suddenly came in to focus.  They wanted to get everyone up onto the roof, where the three dragons up there would ferry them down to the ground. 

However, the camera was at the wrong angle to actually see what was going on up there.

The entire room held its collective breaths as Arthur began floating toward the ground.  There were people on his back, and he set down onto the pavement gently. 

As everyone watched, the Empress and her family, including Steve, slid down off of Arthur’s broad back.

The crowd erupted into cheers.  As did every single person in the precinct.

_Her Imperial Majesty, her Consort, and the Royal Heir all appear to be unharmed…Thanks to the Star Dragons for saving them…_

Ianto’s heart was hammering fit to burst.  He didn’t want to even consider what would have occurred if the Imperial family had been killed in the blast.  It would have put certain protocols into effect, but there was a very real possibility that the Human Empire as they knew it would have ceased to exist.

It would have also invited their enemies to attack.  Ianto was well aware that the Daleks and Cybermen were always waiting for any sort of weakness to show, as were various raiders and pirates who were only being held at bay by the might of Imperial forces.  The might very well have been no way to easily recover.

It would have meant that someone would have had to step in to take command. 

Ianto and Jack – and possibly Phillip, he wasn’t sure – had long known that the previous ruler had had a plan in place in case of a power vacuum.  Danielle had kept to that plan.

That plan would have had Arthur assuming the throne.

As the Once and Future King, Arthur had always held a certain cachet among the Empire’s ruling family.  In the beginning, when it had gotten around that Arthur Pendragon had been reborn and had taken up the reins of the Torchwood Institute, it hadn’t been a very popular decision.  There had been a certain faction that had believed that it was simply a first step to Arthur taking over the whole of the Empire.

That hadn’t been Arthur’s intention at all.  In fact, Arthur had made it plain – and had later proved – that he didn’t want to rule over _anything_ , and that being the Director of Torchwood was the height of his ambition.  Once he’d managed to soothe over that particular Emperor and the Council, Arthur had been left to his own devices, for the most part.

Yes, there had been attempts to put the Institute firmly under Council control, but Arthur had successfully fended off those attempts, swearing his only fealty to the Imperial Throne.

Over the centuries, he’d gained the trust of the Imperial family to the point that they’d come to recognise that Arthur would be the best chance an Empire in turmoil would have.  And so, the Pendragon Protocol was enacted, with Jack and Ianto’s reluctant approval.

Arthur didn’t know.  Neither did Merlin, or anyone else in the family except for Phillip.  Arthur would argue against it, and while it was underhanded everyone involved had realised that not telling him would be for the best.  If the time ever came, Arthur would step up if asked, but he wouldn’t like it, and sometimes surprise is the best way to do things.  In that way, Arthur couldn’t turn it down if the time ever came.

Well, he _could_ …but he was less likely to under that particular set of circumstances.

As everyone stood and watched, more people were ferried down on dragonback, and then the dragons would go back for more.  Merlin, Lisa, and Nicole were using every bit of their power in helping keep the Palace upright long enough to get everyone out alive.

As they were getting the last of the people down onto the ground, the Palace shook.  A chunk of ice broke off, plummeting to the ground and narrowly missing a squad of Shieldsmen coming back out of the wrecked building, carrying out several wounded individuals.

The crowd on the newsfeed screamed, and Ianto found himself holding his breath, not wanting to panic.  Anwyn let out a small pained cry, as Robyn and Alyce echoed their sister.  There was an audible gasp from the gathered police.

If Phillip was finally tiring…and honestly, Ianto thought he would have done so long before now.  It had to have been the help he was getting from the three other magic users that had been allowing him to last as long as he had.

Instantly Clint, who had been on the ground after letting off his last set of passengers, roared in pain and anger and launched himself back into the air, powerful wings kicking up a stiff breeze that practically knocked a couple of people off their feet. 

_The magical ice seems to now be melting…There had not been any reason given for what had caused the ice to grow, but it had been holding up the Palace for several hours now, and it can only be assumed that, whoever was creating it, is now tiring badly…_

_From the reaction of Clint Jones-Coulson, it is now being assumed that the information we have just received is that the creator of the ice is Director Coulson himself is correct and, if so, is yet another mystery surrounding Torchwood’s current immortal leader…_

Damnit, this wasn’t good at all, and the dragon had to wonder just who had leaked that bit to the press; or even, how they had discovered that fact.  Ianto knew that Melinda was going to have to be doing some damage control at some point, but he was also hoping that Phillip using his magic to save the Imperial family would be a point in his favour.

HYDRA had just succeeded in completely outing Phillip.  Ianto didn’t know if this had been their intention, or if it was just an accident and they hadn’t known what would happen if they had indeed arranged to have Phillip on Throneworld at the time of the attack.  They might never know, unless they found the one or ones responsible for this terrorist attack.

“If it _is_ Torchwood’s Director,” a voice popped up, “the guy deserves a Goddess-damned _medal_.”

The camera panned up toward the magic-users.  Nicole was obviously flagging, the golden glow from her antlers flickering weakly.  Nathan had moved underneath her, his back against her stomach, and he was saying something to her even as she was slumping against him.  Carefully, he began to sink toward the ground, his body curled about his sister’s, and Ianto chewed his lip worriedly, hoping she hadn’t drained herself too much but knowing her she most likely had.

Arthur was buzzing about Lisa and Merlin, looking much like an enormous red hummingbird, very obviously worried about both of them.  Ianto could tell that, while Merlin still seemed fine, that Lisa herself was getting tired, just from her inability to stay even close to one place long enough.

Another piece of ice cracked loose from the tower.  This one was from the top of the buttress, and it looked as if it was falling straight toward Lisa and her passenger.

Clint, who was higher up, roared a warning. 

Lisa had to have heard.  She swerved to avoid the plummeting ice, but in the process knocked Merlin out of position too far, and the magic he was wielding sputtered out as he fell forward to wrap his arms about her neck, holding onto the jerking dragon.

Once the magic that was helping hold the tower intact was gone, the ice began to crack even more.

Ianto’s heart was in his throat.  Phillip was still inside, and now the Palace was beginning to lean toward the three dragons still in the air and the wizard that was on the back of one of them.

Clint roared once more.  He darted in toward the toppling structure, but couldn’t get close enough.  Behind him, Ianto could hear one of the cops beginning to pray.

He began as well, to anyone who might be listening. 

_Phillip was still in that building._

Phillip was immortal, but not in the way that Jack and Henry were.  Would he be able to survive the falling building?  Being buried under tons of rubble, even if he did when striking the ground?  Phillip could take an astonishing amount of damage, but he was weakened by using so much magic.  How could he possibly come through that?

But, as he watched with bated breath, a single figure leaped from the crumbling structure.

 

 


	22. Chapter 22

 

**_3 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Imperial Throneworld_ **

****

Intellectually, Phillip knew he shouldn’t be this powerful.

Honestly, he was just grateful for it.

The Palace’s shuddering stopped, and silence fell.  He leaned against the wall, hands buried in the ice that had spilled out of them to cover the wall – and more; he knew the ice was literally holding up the entire residential tower.  His clothes were coated thickly with frost, and his exposed wrists had regained that sheer whiteness they’d had back when he’d been overloaded, just after the Library, blue veins pulsing just under the skin.

He should have been scared.

For some strange reason, he wasn’t.

This had to be related to his exposure to the dark magic from the Library.  They’d managed to get his body back into balance, but they really hadn’t known just how what had occurred would affect him long-term.  He’d already noticed that his magic had seemed easier to control, and now he had proof that he’d gained more power than he’d ever had previously.

But, as strong as he was now, he could feel the strain of controlling enough of the ice to keep the Palace from falling down around them.

“Phillip?” Steve asked tentatively.

The immortal glanced over his shoulder.  Steve was standing there, Prince Joshua in his arms, with Danielle and David next to him and holding onto each other.  The Palace might have stopped collapsing, but the floor was still tilted at a precipitous angle, and they were just barely keeping themselves from sliding forward and into the wall of ice he’d conjured. 

The air was freezing, and every time they breathed the moisture from their exhalations turned to mist in the chill.

“Do you think you can hold?” the Grand Master wanted to know.

“For now,” he answered.  “But I can’t guarantee it’s going to be for long.  I’ve never done this before.”

Steve nodded, handing the prince to his mother.  Then he made his way across the room toward the window, which had finally broken out under the pressure of the unnatural torque the tower was being put through. 

The majority of the room’s furniture had followed the pull of gravity – much like Phillip had done – and was piled against the wall with him…he’d been lucky that he hadn’t gotten hit by a rogue chair or something.  The sofa, though, had stayed pretty much in place, mainly due to the fact that it was heavy and that the legs had gotten caught in the knap of the thick carpet, but if it did let go…well, it was going to hurt like a bitch because it was just in the correct position to hit him.

“You okay, Director Phillip?” Prince Joshua asked, his eyes wide.  “You look funny.”

Danielle obviously couldn’t help the snort that escaped her at that innocent comment.  “He’s fine, sweetheart.  He’s just saving our lives, that’s all.”

The little boy shivered.  “Is that why it’s so cold in here?”

“Yes.  You see, Director Phillip is using magic to help keep the Palace from falling over.  And he’s conjured a lot of ice to help do that.”

“We could have used him last summer when it was so hot!” Joshua declared.  “He could’ve kept our stuff cold that time we went on that picnic!”

Phillip couldn’t help it.  Despite the strain he was feeling as he kept several tons of stone and glass from crashing to the ground, he laughed at that innocent comment. 

Then the boy’s eyes got wide once more.  “But this means you’re a superhero, like Quake and Iron Man and the Hulk!  Were you an Avenger?  Do you have a figure, too?”

“Yes, Joshua,” David told him, “he’s a superhero too, but he doesn’t have a figure like your Avengers do.”

“Well, that’s not fair!”  Joshua pouted.  “Can we make him one?”

“Sure we can,” Danielle assured him.

If Phillip had been capable of blushing in that moment, he would have.

He’d never wanted to be that sort of hero.  He’d been content to be the one who’d worked behind the scenes, letting the more larger-than-life heroes take the lead.  As the Director of SHIELD – and later, the Grand Master of the Shieldsmen – Phillip had been more than happy to stay in the shadows, not drawing attention to himself.

When he’d realised he’d been made immortal, after the original freak-out he’d accepted that he wasn’t a normal person anymore, but that hadn’t meant he couldn’t stay mostly out of the spotlight.  And then he’d discovered the magic, and that had been the hardest thing to reconcile.  First, because it had come from Loki; but, more importantly, it had changed his whole perception of himself in ways that Phillip was still trying to deal with in so many little ways.

He’d become a powered individual, and he would always feel as if it something he didn’t deserve.

In those early years, it had been Daisy Johnson who’d helped him the most.  She’d been through the same thing, and had known just how confused and scared he’d been.  She’d supported him in ways he would never be able to thank her for, and that was one of the many reasons he’d wanted to name his children after her.  She deserved to be honoured, and in this way he would be able to.

He leaned his head against the wall, the better to hide his embarrassment.  He could sense the strain in the ice that he was generating and that he was keeping from crumbling under the immense weight it was holding up.  He was also keeping it from melting, which was another thing entirely, and Phillip wasn’t at all certain how long he could keep this up.

The immortal was determined, though.  These people needed to be saved, and he would do his damnedest to save them.

“The lifts are going to be wrecked,” he could hear Danielle behind him.  “What does it look like outside, Steve?”

He risked a look toward the window, where Steve was standing; he was actually leaning as far as he could without tumbling out.  “We have quite a crowd gathering,” he reported.  “Wait…yes, I see Nathan.  He’s on his way up.”

Phillip was so very glad his son hadn’t been caught up in this.  “He’s most likely looking for us.  Can you let him know where we are, Steve?”

There was a rustle from the window.  “I just waved at him.  He did a barrel roll.”

The immortal snorted.  Of course his son did.  Ever since he’d come to realise that he wasn’t an oddball, Nathan had taken to his dragon form like it was his best friend, and could do the most outrageous aerial acrobatics. 

“Now he’s checking out the rest of the Palace,” Steve went on.  “Probably wants to be able to report back to the rescue teams.”

“Do you think there were many casualties?” Danielle asked softly.

“I have no idea how bad the explosions were,” the Grand Master answered.  “They were a couple of floors down, at least.  I’d have to say in the service areas…”

Phillip reached out with his magical senses.  The tension that hummed through him was growing stronger.  “It…feels like three floors down,” he replied.  “That’s where the ice has built up the thickest.”

“Where the most damage is,” Steve agreed. “Three floors down are the kitchens for the residential areas.  Makes sense…a saboteur could put a smaller bomb in the area and it would make more of a mess, with all the equipment down there.”

“Then we have a traitor in the Palace.”  Danielle sounded implacable, the Empress coming out to play.  “That cannot stand.”

“But who?” David asked. 

“HYDRA,” Steve said darkly.  “They’ve gotten to someone on the inside.”

“Whoever it is, has to have enough clearance to get to the kitchens, but not enough for the residential floors,” Phillip said.  “If it was any higher, they could have struck at any time.”

He didn’t add that if they had, they wouldn’t have had to risk grabbing Joshua at school; they could have taken him right in the Palace. 

Steve made a growling noise.  “That narrows things down.  There will be a full investigation once we get out of this death trap.”

“You holding up alright, Phillip?” Danielle asked, sounding worried. 

“Rescue needs to come sooner rather than later,” he gritted.  The strain was getting incrementally worse, as the structural integrity of the residential tower weakened.  He might have become more powerful, but the well of his magic wasn’t unlimited.  He was going to either need help soon, or someone needed to get to them fast.

“We could try to get down through the stairwells,” Steve mused.  “But we don’t know what sort of rubble will be blocking them.”  He paused.  “Wait…Nathan’s leaving…”

“Probably to report back,” David said.

“No, he’s heading away from the Palace and the base they have set up…Oh, of course.”  There was a smile in his voice.  “It appears he has back-up.”

Phillip locked his elbows, the better to keep his arms from trembling.  His head was beginning to ache, as was his chest in the area of his old scar.  But the pleasure in Steve’s words had him smiling, and he knew it was his family coming even before the Grand Master confirmed it.

“Looks like we have Arthur and Clint,” he reported.  “The black dragon…that’s Lisa, correct?”

“That’s right,” the immortal confirmed, proud that his voice wasn’t shaking like his knees were starting to.  He felt warmth in his chest, beating away a little of the chill that had grown up within him, at the thought that his mate had come.

“Is that Nicole’s new dragon form?  She looks just like her brother, only in opposite.  She’s quite beautiful, and I’m not just saying that because they’re coming to rescue us.”

“That’s my daughter you’re talking about, Steve,” Phillip managed to joke, forgetting the severe strain he was under in the need to chastise his friend for saying that about Nicole.  Not that he didn’t think her dragon form wasn’t beautiful, but he was her father and Steve was unattached, and he would never stop trying to be protective of her.

“I’m only admiring in the aesthetic sense,” Steve chuckled.  “Oh, and there’s someone on Arthur’s back; I’m assuming that’s Merlin.”

Relief crashed through Phillip at that.  It meant that he would be getting some magical back-up soon; he was going to need it. 

He took a deep breath, trying to relax into the magic and let it work.  But the stress was growing.  He could feel parts of the damaged building shifting despite the ice build-up that was buttressing it, and it wouldn’t be all that long before either the Palace broke, or he did.

If Merlin, Nicole, and Lisa were there, they needed to get their arses into gear.

He could hear Danielle, David, and Steve talking behind him, but Phillip tuned them out, the better to concentrate on the ice.  It was cold against his mind, brain synapses firing frost and his blood pumping in slow motion, like the inexorable movements of a glacier.  It felt...different, from anything he’d ever experienced before in using the magic he’d been ‘gifted’.

The immortal suspected it would be different forever, now.

Suddenly the stress became a lot less than it was.  Phillip practically gasped with the relief of it, as he could sense the golden warmness of other magicks taking up some of the slack that he’d needed help with.  He could ease up a little now, regain some of his strength, and hopefully they could now figure out a way to get people safely away before it became impossible to keep the Palace standing any longer.

His let his consciousness drift, in a form of meditation.  He could feel his magic attempting to rebuild itself, and he let it, as he let his mind wander through the icy blueness of this thoughts and golden glow of his family as they supported him as best as they could. 

Phillip was brought forcibly back to himself by someone standing close enough to him that he could actually feel their body heat.  “We need to get to the roof,” Danielle’s calm voice said.  “Nathan shouted at us and said that they’d pick us up from there.”

But Phillip knew he couldn’t leave, not until everyone was out and safe.  Yes, there were three of them holding the building up now, but at this point if any one of them dropped out…it would be disaster. 

Danielle must have seen it in his face, because she nodded.  “I understand.  We’ll get to the roof.  But you follow us, Phillip Coulson-Jones, you follow us as soon as you can.  That is an Imperial order…you hear me?”

She looked so fierce and royal, and Phillip couldn’t help the exhausted smile he gave her.  “I understand, Your Majesty.”

He couldn’t promise, though.  There was no way he could do that. 

“And, if something happens to us – “

“Nothing is going to happen if you get to the roof,” he chided her softly.

Grey eyes rolled.  “Anything can happen, dear one.”

He couldn’t disagree with her.

“If something happens…Pendragon Protocol, Uncle Phillip.”

“Now I know you’d best be alright, because there’s no way in any hell that I’m going to be the one to tell Arthur that he’s the new Emperor of the Human Empire.” 

Phillip knew his nephew.  He knew just how much Arthur hated the whole ‘Once and Future King’ shit that history had saddled him with.  There was a reason no one had actually informed him of the Pendragon Protocol, simply because Arthur would have murdered anyone who’d even suggested it.

There really was no guarantee that Phillip himself would get out of this situation anyway, but he wasn’t going to bring that up.

Danielle snorted.  “Why do you think I’ve made it an order that he be told if I died?”  Then her eyes turned warm.  “Be right behind us, Phillip.  As soon as you can.  I don’t want to be the one to tell your family that I was the last one to see you alive, and I’m sure as hells not going to pass on any final messages, so don’t say a word about that.”

His smile went fond.  He loved this young woman to bits.  “I won’t say a thing.”

“Good.  Now, I’d kiss you, but I don’t want my lips to get frostbite.” 

Instead, she gave him a jaunty salute, and was gone.

“But what about Director Phillip?” he heard Prince Joshua demand as the immortal turned his face back to the wall.

“He’ll be right behind us,” his mother soothed.  “But he’s a little busy holding the Palace up.”

“He better be, ‘cause needs to pose for his figure!” the little boy exclaimed. 

Phillip turned back, and out of the corner of his eye he could just make out Joshua, being held in his father’s arms.  “Go with your parents,” he urged.  “When this is over, I’ll tell you the story of the Ghost Rider.  I don’t think I’ve told you that one yet.”

“Now you’ve done it,” David laughed, even though his eyes were worried.  “He won’t let you forget.”

“Okay, Director Phillip,” Joshua agreed.  “My bedtime is at nine o’clock.”

And, with that, the four of them were gone, leaving Phillip alone.

It had been a long time since he’d felt this lonely.

 

********** 

 

Phillip lost track of time.

But he could tell, even with the help he was getting from the outside, that he was weakening.  It simply wasn’t as quickly as it had been.

The first, fast, regaining of strength faded after a while, pouring out of him as his magic did, filling in other damaged areas and strengthening where needed.  Phillip managed to keep the ice from melting, but there would come a point where he wouldn’t be able to do that any longer; in fact, he felt a piece of ice calve off the whole, falling to the ground.  The immortal hoped it didn’t hit anyone.

He couldn’t completely stop the tower from shifting, though, at the change in mass, and one small shudder was enough to finally knock the sofa loose.

The immortal couldn’t dodge it.

The heavy piece of furniture struck him at the back of his legs.

Phillip cried out as he felt a bone in his left leg snap at the impact. 

His knees buckled, agony breaking the intense concentration he’d been under.  Phillip barely managed to stay on his feet, the pressure of the sofa against him and pushing him into the ice-encrusted wall.  The pain crashed through him, and he hissed from it, hoping the GH325 in his blood would be able to handle this newest injury as well as what the ice magic was doing to the very cells of his body.

Spots floated before his eyes as the tower shivered around him, because of his sudden loss of control over the magic.  Somewhere in his mind, he felt another piece of the ice that had been buttressing the tower crack and break, dropping free of the Palace.

And, suddenly, the magic that had been helping him keep the Palace upright was gone.

Phillip’s knees did go out from under him then, as his magic reacted to the loss of support, and he collapsed back onto the sofa, his hands pulling free of the ice build-up that had kept him attached to the wall.  Pain blinded him, and he curled up on the cushions, whimpering at the backlash.

The tower shook like a dog would shake a stuffed toy, making the sofa slide once more, taking Phillip with it.  He knew he had to get out before the entire place collapsed, but he wasn’t sure if he could.

He thought of his mate, and his children…and that had Phillip up on his feet, stumbling toward the window, agony from the broken leg he was dragging along bringing an odd sort of clarity to his jumbled senses.

There was only one thing he could do, one chance that he had.

He barely got his injured leg out of the warped window frame before he jumped.

 

 


	23. Chapter 23

 

**_3 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Imperial Throneworld_ **

****

Merlin saw Phillip leap from the window, at the same time that Clint must have, judging from the scream his uncle-by-mating made, a sound of pain and terror that had Merlin gasping aloud at it in a tiny, almost soundless echo of the agony that Uncle Clint was feeling.

His hearts fluttered in his chest as Phillip began to plummet toward the ground.  The wizard brought his hands up, to cast something – anything – to stop the falling figure from striking the ground.

But, before Merlin could even try to bring his magic back to bear, Clint managed to catch his falling mate in reaching, grasping claws, roaring his victory to the sky as he pulled up and away from the disintegrating Palace tower.

Lisa had darted forward the moment she’d also seen Phillip jump, and Merlin could understand her need to save the man who was almost closer to her than her own parents were.  He leaned back over her neck, putting his arms around her to keep her jerky movements from knocking him off her back. 

Instead, Lisa swerved away from the falling building, getting clear before ice and rubble could hit them.  Merlin held on for dear life, not wanting to distract her from their escape.  He wanted to look around for his mate, but didn’t dare lift his face from the side of the black dragon’s neck until her erratic flying ceased and they were safe.

Eventually, Lisa set down next to the tent that had been set up as a base of operations, and he slid off her back gratefully, glad to be back on solid ground once more.  He could hear the sound of the collapsing tower and the shouting of the crowd as they were watching the horrible destruction unfold.

He didn’t turn to look at them, however.  His eyes were on his mate, who had made it to the ground just before they had and was changing back into his human form just a few feet away.

Arthur glanced over, and gave Merlin a heartfelt smile, before nodding his head toward Clint, who was only now just landing somewhat awkwardly on his rear legs, Phillip cupped gently in both front claws.  Merlin started forward as Clint set his mate on the ground and then transformed himself, the better to cradle Phillip against his chest, arms wrapped around him from behind. 

Merlin gasped in dismay at the sight of his uncle-by-mating even as he was falling to his knees beside him.

Phillip’s skin was the same stark white it had been back at the Library, after Merlin had accidentally overloaded him with the dark magic he’d tried so hard to control, but as he watched the natural tone began to bleed through all that unnatural pallor.  It was the same with Phillip’s eyes; they were slowing fading back to normal, from the crystal colour they’d changed into.  His clothing was coated in frost, but even that was melting, steam rising into the warm air. 

The immortal’s left leg was at an unnatural angle, and Merlin wondered just when he’d broken it, and had he been supporting all that magic while injured?

The wizard was going to have to re-evaluate Phillip’s magic, something that his uncle wasn’t going to like very much.

“You’re supposed to be the responsible one, Phillip Coulson, and not jump out of crumbling buildings like I used to,” Clint scolded, his voice choked with emotion. “Now I know how you felt, so don’t ever do that again.”

“Don’t do what…save a lot of lives?” Phillip groaned, shifting slightly and jarring his leg, causing him to hiss in pain.

His arms tightened around the ice mage’s torso.  “Next time I might not be around to catch you.”

Phillip gave his mate a sweet smile.  “You’ll always catch me.”

Clint buried his face in Phillip’s neck, and Merlin turned away from what had become a very private moment.

Arthur was shouting for medics as Nathan, Lisa, and Nicole gathered around.  Nicole was wiped out, her eyes exhausted and skin pale, and she was trembling as she leaned against her twin, who was almost fully supporting her.  Lisa’s eyes were wet, as if she wanted to cry and was holding the tears back. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to teach a course in ice magic at the school?” Merlin gasped out, pitifully glad that Phillip was going to be okay. 

Phillip turned exhausted eyes on him.  “Pretty sure.”

Clint snorted, half in relief and half in exasperation.

The medic arrived, accompanied by Empress Danielle and her family.  Merlin fought the urge to rise, knowing that he’d been exempted from any sort of genuflection a long time ago, but that sort of thing had been ingrained in him all the way back in his first life, and habits were hard to break.  The Empress was carrying the Royal Heir, and Joshua wriggled just enough to give his mother the impression he wanted to be set down, so she did.

The little boy stepped toward Phillip as one of the medics got to work on the broken leg.  “You still owe me that story, Director Phillip,” he told the immortal, looking incredibly solemn for someone so young. 

“And you’ll get it,” Phillip promised, staying still for the woman busily using a scanner to assess the damage done.  “Although it might not be tonight.”

“That’s okay.  You promised me, so I know you’ll do it.  But all my figures are gone, except for this one.”  Joshua pulled a small metal piece from his trouser pocket; Merlin recognised it as one of the small toy figures that Phillip liked to collect.  In fact, he was surprised it was the Daisy Johnson one, which the wizard had heard had taken him a long time to find.  “When we get yours, Quake won’t be alone anymore.”

Judging from the noises Clint was making, his uncle thought the Crown Prince was being incredibly cute.  Well, Merlin thought the same thing.

“Figure?” Clint asked teasingly.

Joshua nodded emphatically, in that way all children had when they were speaking a universal truth.  “Director Phillip is a superhero, so he deserves a figure too.  Mum says we’re going to have one made.”

Merlin couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face.  He couldn’t agree more, although he was very much aware that Phillip didn’t feel that way.

Clint looked as if he was about to cry, but his own smile was radiant. “You’re right, he does.  Director Phillip _is_ a superhero.  But he’s my hero, too.”  Clint leaned over and kissed Phillip on the temple, and the immortal got such an incredibly sappy expression on his face that Merlin knew Phillip would be blaming on his tiredness as soon as he was recovered.

“You’ve managed to break your tibia,” the medic reported, “and there’s a hairline crack in the fibula.  We’ll get you under the skeletal regenerator and you should be up and walking by tomorrow morning, Director Coulson.”

“Thank you,” Phillip murmured.

“Just how in the universe did you manage to break your leg in the short time we left you alone?”  Danielle had her hands on her hips, not looking at all happy.

“The sofa.” Phillip was chagrined. 

Steve, who had joined them during Joshua’s little speech, winced.  “I’m sorry, I should have made sure that was moved before we left…”

“It’s fine,” the immortal sighed.  “I didn’t think about it, either.”

Clint snorted in what sounded like disbelief, as if he knew damned well that his mate _had_ considered something as crazy as a sofa somehow breaking his leg and was just saying that to make Steve feel a bit less guilty.  Merlin thought the same, because his uncle was a planner and didn’t leave anything to chance if he could possibly avoid it.

“Well, to be fair you were somewhat occupied at the time,” Steve sighed. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

“I was only doing my duty.”  Phillip shrugged self-deprecatingly.

“No, Uncle Phillip,” Danielle stated.  “You were doing far more than that.” There was something in her eyes that Merlin thought might have been affection, combined with exasperation.

“I’m going to go with you to the hospital,” Merlin told his uncle-by-mating.  “That was a lot of magic you just expended, and I want to make sure there aren’t going to be any deleterious effects.”

Phillip grimaced.  “I agree.  I…want to talk to you about it anyway…as soon as I sleep for a week.”

The wizard touched him on the shoulder in support as someone brought a gurney round.  Together, the medic, Clint, Arthur, and Merlin himself got Phillip situated on the spongey foam of the mattress, and the medic used the force field that it had come equipped with to keep Phillip steady as she and the rest of them moved toward an ambulance that was parked nearby.

That was when Merlin noticed the applause.

The entire gathered crowd of people were applauding them.

No…they were applauding _Phillip_. 

Each and every person had been a witness to what measures Phillip had taken in order to save everyone within that tower.  They might not understand what had happened, but they’d seen, and it must have been obvious to them that Phillip had something to do with the ice that had keep the building upright long enough to get everyone they could out and to safety.  Thanks to him, the Imperial family was unharmed, and these people were showing their gratitude to Phillip for what he’d done and risked to do it.

Now, the entire Empire knew that Torchwood’s Director was a wizard.  It wasn’t something that could be shoved back into a box and forgotten.  Phillip had just taken a tremendous step onto the intergalactic stage, and he wouldn’t be able to retreat back into the shadows once more. 

Danielle stepped away and the gurney continued on.  She would be making some sort of address soon, and Merlin knew it was going to be a doozy.  He glanced over at Lisa, who had stopped in her tracks, staring after the Empress as if she was seeing something besides the diminutive, yet powerful, woman moving toward the nearest news reader, Steve at her shoulder, looming protectively.  More Shieldsmen were making their way to their Empress, while others were taking David and Joshua in hand, First Shieldsman Charlton with them. 

Charlton’s eyes met Merlin’s, and the man nodded. 

Lisa gave a full body shudder, then began walking toward the ambulance once more.  Merlin caught up with her, taking her hand in his.  “What did you see?” he whispered.

Because that was what Merlin interpreted that to be: Lisa had had another vision.  This one didn’t seem to be as bad as the one she’d seen back in Ddraig Llyn, judging from the slight smile on her face.

“There’s going to be another Imperial child soon,” she answered, just as softly.  “And he’s going to be named Phillip.”

Merlin laughed.  “That’s brilliant.”

His aunt laughed as well.  “Too right.”

 

 


	24. Chapter 24

 

**_3 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Armstrong Dome_ **

**_The Moon_ **

****

Ianto, still watching the newsfeed and unable to tear his eyes away, sagged in relief when it became apparent that Phillip was going to be fine.

As his son-by-mating was taken away by ambulance, the dragon sighed, and the grip that Anwyn had had on his arm went slack as she, too, came to the realisation that Phillip was alright.

The Imperial Palace was a disaster, though; however, buildings weren’t important.  What was, was that people’s lives had been saved. 

And they’d been saved because of Phillip, who was being carried to the nearest medical facility.  From what Ianto had seen, he’d been awake and talking, but there had been something wrong with his leg.  Chances were, he’d be in hospital for overnight, long enough to fix whatever had happened to him.

Ianto really wanted to speak to Phillip – and Merlin, as their expert – on that show of magic Phillip had put on.  The dragon had been willing to bet that Phillip wouldn’t have been that powerful, but that show he just put on had negated that consideration.  It had to have been because of the exposure to dark magic, and he could only hope that that would be extent of it.

A round of cheering sounded from the entire squad room as the Empress approached one of the cameras. Danielle looked a bit dishevelled, but she carried her Imperial power with her effortlessly.  Steve accompanied her, and it only added to her presence as she took up a place in front of the camera.

 _The Empress of the Human Empire wishes to make a statement._  Said the news crawl along the bottom of the screen.

 _“My people,”_ Danielle began, her eyes solemn and her back straight, her voice implacable over the viewscreen’s speakers.  _“Today, we have suffered a diabolical terrorist attack on our home, and that cannot stand.  We will be launching a full investigation into what has happened, as well as bringing those responsible to the full justice of Imperial law.  My Shieldsmen will lead the investigation, and we as well will be seeking assistance from agencies all over the Empire, including the Torchwood Institute and the Guild of Adjudicators.  We believe this act is linked to the attempted kidnapping of my son, your Crown Prince, a couple of months ago, and that enquiry will obviously dovetail into this one.  All involved will stand trial for what they have done, and will face the harshest penalty available under the law._

 _“Also, you have all seen something miraculous today: the column of ice that kept the Palace from collapsing after the explosion that had been meant to send this Empire into chaos and to viciously murder everyone within the residential tower, regardless of position within the Imperial household.  What you might_ not _have known, but most likely have suspected, was that this was created by magic.  This was accomplished by the man that was just taken away from here by ambulance…that man is Phillip Coulson-Jones, the current Director of the Torchwood Institute, and a dear friend of the Human Empire. He was aided by members of his own family, the Star Dragons who arrived so quickly to help: his mate, Clint Jones-Coulson; his children, Nathan and Nicole Jones-Coulson; his sister-by-mating, Lisa Harkness-Jones; the former Torchwood Director, Arthur Pendragon; and Arthur’s mate, Master Wizard Merlin Williams-Song.  We have much to thank these extraordinary individuals for, and I intend to honour each of them for their service to the Empire…and to my family, and the innocent lives their actions have saved this day._

_“Also, thanks need to be given to the responders who went into the damaged Palace, risking their lives to bring those trapped within out and to safety.  Each and every one of them is a hero to this Empire, and to my family as well, and will be recognised as such._

_“To you, all who have witnessed these events, you have watched history in the making, and the Empire will come through this even stronger than before.  This is my pledge to you, my people: we shall have those who would strike against us at our feet, and they will pay with their very blood.”_

Another round of cheering started up, and Ianto couldn’t help but join in.  His daughters did as well. 

He knew, though, that HYDRA had to have been behind this, in some way.  Only they’d so far had shown the ruthlessness needed for such an act.  He wanted nothing more than to go and help with the investigation, but his path lay elsewhere.

Ianto needed to be here, to find the one who’d struck against his own family.  He would trust Arthur, Phillip, and the others to help the Empress in her own search for the traitor that had to have been responsible for the attempted assassination of the entire Imperial family.

He reluctantly turned away from the newscast.  The entire police force was in the room, plainclothes detectives and uniformed coppers all together.  It occurred to Ianto that this was what would bring them all together, that HYDRA had just made a terrible mistake.

This show of force would make it nearly impossible for them to make any sort of power grab now.

Ianto had to wonder just what made them decide to strike at such a target.  What had been their plan?  Surely, they couldn’t have thought they would succeed.

Unless…there was a plan that was more than just attempting to murder the Imperial family…

Ianto shook himself.  He would leave it to the investigation on Throneworld to dig up whatever they could on the plot.  He had things to do on his own.

And one of those things was to sit in on the interrogation of the HYDRA goon who’d attempted to kill Detective Shraeger.

“Hey, Walsh!” one of the detectives called out.  He was a tall human, with black hair, moustache, and a slightly hang-dog expression.  “That guy who looked like you…”

Walsh shrugged.  “More like I look like him, since he’s been around a lot longer than I have.”

The man’s dark eyes glanced at Ianto, then back to Detective Walsh.  “And he’s some sort of dragon?”

“Not ‘some sort of dragon’, Delahoy.” From what Ianto could tell, Walsh wanted to roll his eyes, but was barely refraining from it.  Ianto had to admire his restraint.  “Clint Jones-Coulson, this guy’s,” he hooked a thumb toward Ianto, “son.  So show a bit of respect, huh?”

Delahoy threw up his hands in surrender.  “Just saying, it’s a bit weird.  No one should be stuck with that ugly face of yours, Walsh.”

“Better his ugly face than yours, Delahoy,” an attractive, dark-haired woman snarked back, one hand on her hip and a smirk curling up her lips. 

That got her a round of cat-calls and whistles, and she – her name was Beaumont, according to the good-natured congratulations – high-fived a grinning Shraeger. 

This team reminded Ianto of their first Torchwood team, and a part of him wished he could have that sort of camaraderie back.  Maybe he would, someday…members of that team – that family – were now coming back into his life, and they were recalling that life. 

He had to admit to himself that, knowing Suzie and Toshiko and Owen and Diane were interred in the Vault back at the submerged Cardiff Hub, was just a tad weird.  But it was a weird he could certainly live with.

And, with that, the coppers began to disperse back to their desks, the excitement over.  The newsfeed remained on, however, most likely in hopes of catching any other updates that might be broadcast later on.

“Don’t we have a perp to interrogate?” Walsh asked mildly, but Ianto could tell he was amused. 

Shraeger nodded.  “Let’s go see why this bastard wanted to kill me.”  She turned to Ianto and his daughters.  “You can watch from the observation room,” she invited them.  “For official reasons, we can’t have you in with us for the actual questioning, but we can make sure you’re connected through to us via comms, so if there’s anything you can think of to contribute, you’re more than welcome to.”

“Thank you, Detective Shraeger,” the dragon said sincerely.  “We do appreciate the rules you’re bending to allow us to observe.”

Walsh shrugged.  “It’s not a problem.  We’re also hoping you can give us some sort of clues what to ask our prisoner, as well.”

“We’ll help in any way we can,” Ianto assured him.  “After what happened today, I think it’s become imperative to find these people and stop them for good.”

Both detectives gained shrewd expressions on their faces, but it was Shraeger who spoke.  “It makes sense it was HYDRA who did this.  Her Imperial Majesty was right: HYDRA were the ones who tried to kidnap Prince Joshua, and when they failed that…”

“Exactly.”  But Ianto thought there was something more going on.

This couldn’t have been a coincidence, Phillip being called to Throneworld at this time.  No, the dragon felt in his very bones that Phillip was supposed to have been killed at the same time as the Imperial family; his son-by-mating might have been immortal, but there were still ways he could die, and having tons of building collapse onto him might very well have accomplished that.  Phillip could take a lot, but Ianto wasn’t at all sure he could have survived _that_.

But HYDRA hadn’t counted on Phillip’s magic.  It wasn’t something that anyone had broadcast; Phillip had always been wary of it, and it had only been in the last several years that he’d truly become comfortable with it.  Still, it was a secret that only a handful of people outside of the family knew about.

That had just changed.

Ianto didn’t think Phillip would be happy with Danielle outing him like that, but there was no denying it now.  The ‘show’ that the immortal just unintentionally put on had ended that particular secret, and Danielle had had no choice but to let the cat out of the bag, so to speak.  Hells, the newsreaders had already put it together; she’d just confirmed it.

Still, Phillip had never been _that_ powerful.  If he hadn’t been overloaded with dark magic, he would never have been able to do what he’d just accomplished. 

The dragon had been very worried about Phillip, and Merlin and River as well. 

He believed that this had just proved him right to do so.

 

 


	25. Chapter 25

 

**_3 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_The TARDIS_ **

****

Jack had the feeling something was up with the TARDIS.

He couldn’t put his finger on it, but she seemed…louder, than he’d ever heard.  Not that her engine was like that; no, it was her thoughts that felt closer to him, as if she was somehow even more sentient than usual. 

The immortal had always had a close relationship with the TARDIS, dating back to his first round of travels with the Doctor’s Ninth incarnation.  He’d been the one she’d let do small repairs on, even if he’d never learned to really pilot her, and he’d been able to sense her happiness and gratitude at his attempts to help her.  He’d been the one to install her original extrapolator shielding, taken from that Slitheen that had tried to blow Cardiff off the map…damn, he couldn’t remember her name.  Another thing lost to his immortality and his frail, human memory.

But he liked to think him and the TARDIS were friends, and that she considered him the same.  Now, though, it was obvious she was feeling just a bit more than that.

It was almost as if she was trying to speak to him.  Jack could catch half-formed words in his mind, and her laughter was almost contagious.  He’d found himself smiling several times since stepping on board the sentient time ship. 

He’d caught the Time Lord looking at him several times on the trip to Dahlnia Prime.  It was as if the Doctor was searching for some sort of reaction from him, and that told Jack more than anything that something was up.

“Okay,” he finally said, once they were in the vortex and on their way to Trafusis, Cadi lounging on one of the chairs that dotted the control deck.  “What’s going on?”

The Doctor tried very hard to look innocent, but Jack wasn’t buying it.  “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come on, Doc,” he wheedled gently, using the nickname he’d once used back when they were officially travelling together, “you’re looking at me like you’re thinking I’m gonna grow a second head or something.  I’ve done that once before, and it’s never happening again, so you don’t need to worry about that.”  He leaned a hip against the console.  “What are you expecting me to do?  Or say?”

Then it occurred to him.  “Wait…you’re waiting for me to say something about the TARDIS.” 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re repeating yourself, Doc.”

“You know I hate it when you call me that!”

“I know.  That’s why I’m doing it.  Now, fess up…what’s going on?  Something’s changed about the TARDIS, and you know what it is.”

The Doctor looked down at the console, as if he didn’t want to meet Jack’s gaze.  Out of the corner of his eye, the immortal saw Cadi perk up and lean forward in her seat, her own eyes narrowing as she regarded the Time Lord as well.

“What do you mean, Dad?” she asked. 

Jack shook his head.  “The old lady is a lot more…talkative…than I’ve heard her be.  I’ve always been able to get impressions from her, but now…every once in a while, it’s like I’m getting actual words, and that’s unusual.”

“But she was like that the last time I was in her,” his daughter claimed.  “I could feel her trying to comfort me.  I thought that was just the way she was.”

Jack frowned.  Not everyone could sense the TARDIS, that he knew.  In others, it was a nebulous sort of thing, a feeling of not being alone, but not in a bad way.  He knew for a fact that Ianto was one of those that didn’t feel her all that well, and while he was aware that Cadi hadn’t actually travelled in her before Sabrina’s death, he would have assumed she’d have been like her other father.

He mentally poked at the TARDIS a little, and he got laughter and a very strong sensation that he was loved, plus he thought she might be pleased with him for some reason.

“Now I know something’s going on,” he said. “Doctor…what is it?”

The Doctor sighed.  He came around the console to stand next to Jack, his eyes suddenly very worried.  “The TARDIS’ mental presence is getting stronger.  And it’s been going on since the Library.”

“Since…” And the pieces fell into place.  “Wait…are you saying she got some of the dark magic that Merlin was tossing around?”

“Yes, I am.  And I don’t know what that exposure is doing to her.”

Jack slumped against the console in shock.  That…hadn’t been what he’d been expecting.  He was well aware that the TARDIS was a living creature, but she was something so much more than that.  She had a connection to the vortex, the same force that fuelled her and where she lived most of the time.  The time ship was very much a creature of Time, and that put her so far above normal people that only the Time Lords had been able to relate to her.

Jack was, in so many ways, also a creature of Time.  He had the vortex coursing through his cells like a lifeforce, and it was what was keeping him alive long after he should have died.  That had given him a strong connection with the TARDIS after he’d been brought back, but to be honest that had existed before Rose had dumped the time vortex into him in a well-meaning attempt to bring him back to life that had, in so many ways, failed miserably.  That link had allowed Jack to know that he’d needed to stay with the Doctor at the onset of that Year, but it had been a little stronger then than it had been when he'd actually travelled with them full-time.

Truth be told, Jack felt a kinship with the TARDIS that was most likely as close to a Time Lord’s as he could get without actually being from Gallifrey.

“But the Time Lords didn’t have much to do with magic, did they?” Cadi asked.  “I keep thinking Merlin said something like that once.”

“You’re right,” the Doctor nodded.  “Time Lords weren’t into magic.  Oh, we knew about it, but it wasn’t something we were interested in, as surprising as that seems.  Yes, there were certain Time Lords who tried to harness magic for their own uses, but that never turned out well.  In fact, it’s been a constant source of surprise to me that Merlin has any magic _at all_ , let alone being the most powerful wizard of any age.  The TARDIS shouldn’t have been affected by all that power that Merlin channelled, but she has been, and I have no clue what it’s going to end up doing to her.”

“But she sounds…happy,” Jack replied.  “Downright joyful, actually.”

“She is.”  The Doctor reached out and stroked her console lovingly. “She’s positively ecstatic that she can very nearly talk to us.  And, for a short while, so was I.  But I can’t help but be concerned.  She’s my best girl, after all.”

Cadi laughed.  “I’ll be sure to tell River you said that.”

“Oh, River’s very much aware of it, and she doesn’t mind sharing me.” The Time Lord gave her a cocky grin.

That made Cadi laugh even harder.  In Jack’s head, the TARDIS joined in, and he didn’t want to think this was a bad thing, but it was dark magic, and there were valid reasons why he was concerned.

Phillip didn’t seem to be much affected, and neither did River.  But Merlin was practically running scared, and it had only been in the last couple of days that he seemed a little calmer about what had happened on the Library.

Jack might not have had a single magical bone in his body, and he might not have the knowledge that Merlin, Rory, and Nicole had, but he knew enough about dark magic to keep an eye on his loved ones…

And he had another epiphany.

“Is that why you’ve been hanging around?” he exclaimed. “You’ve been keeping an eye on Merlin, River, and Phillip!”

The Doctor shrugged self-consciously.  “Merlin and Phillip, yes.  But I haven’t been all that worried about River.  She’s always had that core of darkness in her, and I think she can handle things on her own.”

 _That_ was an understatement.  River was a sociopath, and quite a happy one, and Jack had confidence in the Doctor’s opinion on the subject.  “But Merlin and Phillip?” he pressed.

“Phillip seems fine, although I have questions about his sudden and complete control over his magic.  He also seems a bit more…comfortable, than I’d like.  But I’m not worried about him.”

 _Not yet,_ was the unsaid conclusion to that statement.

“As for Merlin…River had a talk with him, and it calmed him down a little.  I do think we need to keep an eye on him for a little while longer, though.” Then his face went a little angry.  “But those aren’t the only reasons I’ve been staying in one place like this, Jack.  HYDRA needs to be stopped, and Sabrina was my family, too.  So are Rowena and Henry and Skylar.  We need to stop them before they wreak any more chaos on the universe.”

Jack believed him.  It had taken the events at the Library for the Doctor to finally realise that he really was a part of their family now, and the immortal was glad of it.  They might not always have gotten along, but there had been a part of Jack that would love the Doctor for eternity.  Not in the same way he loved Ianto, of course, but the Time Lord had saved him, and had helped him to become the man who deserved the dragon that had chosen him as his mate. 

He was so very glad that the Doctor was with them now, instead of out there on his own.

“And we’re glad you’re here,” Jack told him sincerely.  “You know we are.”

The Time Lord didn’t say anything; instead, he simply nodded, acknowledging Jack’s words as truth.

Cadi, though, took it a step farther.  She reached over, resting a hand on the Doctor’s arm.  “I’m grateful you were the one to come for me and Sabrina,” she murmured.  “You and Grandtad Rhys…just by being there, you helped.  I’ll never forget that.”

The Doctor was obviously touched.  He put his hand on hers, squeezing her fingers.  “It was my honour.”

Jack didn’t even try to hide the tear he wiped away. 

The unmistakable ping of landing sounded, breaking the moment.  The Doctor moved away, checking the console and making certain they’d materialised where they’d needed to.  “Here we are,” he announced.  “The planet Trafusis.  I have to admit, I’ve never been here before.  Cadi, you have…what can we expect?”

Jack could tell the Doctor was including her on purpose, as his usual style was to fling open the doors and stepping out into the unknown. He appreciated his restraint in this case; Jack knew that everyone had been worried about Cadi, but his daughter seemed to be bouncing back to her usual, confident self.

And he could tell that Cadi knew it, too, and decided that humouring the Doctor was the way to go.   

“Trafusis is a trading hub,” she began, and to Jack’s ears she sounded a lot like her twin did when Rowena gave a lecture.  “A lot of it is above-board and legal, but there’s an underside to Trafusis that not a lot of people know about.  Weapons…drugs…even slaves have been known to come through the planet.  ImpSec and Torchwood have been after all of it for decades, but they get rid of one and two more pop up in their place.”

“Sort of like a Hydra,” the Doctor commented idly.

Cadi blinked; that obviously hadn’t occurred to her.  “That’s…a little too close to home.”

Jack didn’t blame her for feeling that way; he did, too, now that the Doctor had pointed that out.  Just how long had HYDRA been in the shadows, and no one had noticed?  Or was this just a coincidence?  Cadi using a metaphor to describe something that didn’t have a damned thing to do with a hidden terrorist organisation, and all about criminals taking advantage of the vacuum left behind when one of their own is taken out of the picture?

Shit, when had he gotten so paranoid?

Oh yeah…about the time they’d figured out that a group of terrorists that should have been long gone were back and had murdered his daughter…

“The first thing we should do,” Cadi started again, after clearing her throat roughly, “is to meet with one of my contacts here.  He should be able to point us in the general direction of H and G, since he has his ear to the ground and usually knows what’s going on around here.”

“He doesn’t happen to be another reincarnation, does he?” Jack felt the need to ask.

His child chuckled.  “No, Dad…not that he’s told me.  But he’s been around for a long time, and for someone who usually operates on the right side of the law he certainly has enough connections with the criminal underworld to get us what we need.”

“What does he do?” the Doctor asked curiously, even as he was heading toward the TARDIS doors, his purple coattails billowing out behind him. 

“He’s a medical doctor.” Cadi followed, and Jack took up the rear.  “He has a clinic that looks after some of the poorer people in Argent, the main city of the planet.  It’s how he gets in contact with a lot of undesirables…he’s not afraid to look after anyone who comes to him for help.  He gains a lot of trust that way, and that pretty much allows him to have a nearly unlimited freedom.  I’ve gotten him supplies several times when he’s asked.”  She grinned as the Doctor waved her through the now-open door.  “I don’t even charge him anything, I just ask that he shares things with me sometimes.”

Jack moved past the Time Lord as well, and once he was outside he got his first look at Argent, the capitol city of Trafusis.

It was a morass of people, all bustling about what looked to be a major marketplace. 

From where the TARDIS had parked, they were just off the main thoroughfare, which was lined with all sorts of stores and open booths.  It reminded Jack of Farpoint Station in a way, only they were dirtside instead of on a space station. 

Hawkers were calling out to the pedestrians, trying to get the various races to check out their wares.  Cadi led the way, pressing through the crowd, having to shove at least one person out of the way in order for them to get through.  She got a lot of angry looks, but the holstered gun on her hip and the sharp stares she gave them had each and every one of the irritated people backing down instantly. 

Yes, Jack was quite proud of his badass daughter.

The immortal could tell that this wasn’t exactly the best part of town.  It was smelly and overly crowded and loud, the people dressed in worn clothing and were well-armed.  He was glad he’d retrieved his Webley before they’d left, although the Doctor had given him an expression that would have anyone else questioning their life choices, but Jack did enough of that on his own on a good day, so it didn’t faze him. 

They ignored the wares on display as Cadi led them onward.  Jack wasn’t interested; it wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen this sort of thing before, and really didn’t see the need to browse when they were on business.  He still had the feeling that time was passing too fast, and that something was bound to happen soon.

It was the large vidscreen mounted on the wall of one of the shops, a crack along one side of the actual screen, that was showing a familiar vista that had him stopping in his tracks.  The Doctor, obviously not paying any attention, rammed right into Jack’s back, knocking him a single step forward.

“What?” the Time Lord asked, concerned.

“That,” Jack answered, pointing toward the newsfeed. 

As soon as the Doctor caught sight of what Jack was seeing, he cursed somewhat creatively.  It wasn’t often that the Time Lord used such profanity, but Jack figured the occasion warranted it.

There had been an attack on Throneworld.

But it was the sheer amount of ice holding the middle tower of the Imperial Palace upright that absolutely stunned Jack.

Cadi must have noticed they weren’t with her any longer and had doubled back to find them.  She gasped as soon as she saw what was up on the screen.  “How is he doing that?” she murmured for Jack’s ears only.

“I have no idea,” he confessed, knowing exactly what she was talking about.

The Doctor was shaking his head.  “I should have guessed…”

Jack turned his head to look at his friend.  “What?” he demanded.

“Phillip received a power boost from all that dark magic,” he said quietly, was if he didn’t want anyone to overhear, which was a good idea in Jack’s opinion.  “He’s been more confident with his magic ever since.”

“You’re saying...?”  Jack didn’t need to finish the sentence, because it made way too much sense.

They’d managed to fix Phillip’s magic, and to be honest Jack had thought his son-by-mating had been set back to normal…or as normal as anyone could be after absorbing so much dark magic.  But this…of course, being exposed to that sort of magic would have changed things, and they were seeing the results of that up on the viewscreen.

He wanted to push them all back to the TARDIS and get to Throneworld as soon as possible.  This had to have been HYDRA, striking at the Imperial family, and it was only Phillip’s ice magic that was preventing a disaster.  He thought of Danielle, and David, and little Joshua, and everyone else that might have been up in that tower when the explosion – according to the ticker across the bottom of the images – had gone off, taking out a huge chunk of the building. 

Cadi had her hand on Jack’s arm, her fingers clutching at his bicep almost painfully.  “Do we go?”

As much as Jack wanted to, he knew what they were doing was important.  “You know Clint is on his way,” he answered her.  “And Nathan is already there.”  In the camera, he could make out his grandson’s dragon form flying around the damaged Palace, most likely searching for his Dad…and other survivors.  “We need to trust our family to take care of things.”

The Doctor rested his own hand on Jack’s shoulder.  “They’ll take care of things on Throneworld.  We need to complete our own mission.”

In his head, Jack knew that was the truth.  Tracking down H and G had to be their priority.  This was their task, and it would be one more piece of their vengeance. 

It needed to be done. 

“Let’s find this doctor of yours,” he added.  “Then we can finish up here and go to be with our family.”

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

 

**_3 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Ddraig Llyn_ **

**_Interlude – Toshiko Sato_ **

****

Toshiko Sato was so very glad to be among family again.

She was really questioning her reasoning for waiting, now that she was actually at Ddraig Llyn and surrounded by the people she’d loved in her first life.  Jack…Ianto…Clint…Rhys, whom she’s thought was dead…Owen, reincarnated as a Polari of all things and in a relationship with both Suzie and Diane…it was amazing how much had changed, and yet had stayed the same.

Owen was still the sarcastic arse he’d been back then.  Diane was the same, as well, just as adventurous and willing to tell anyone she didn’t agree with to go to hell.  Suzie, now healed from the darkness that had tainted her and had led her to murder and then commit suicide.  Rhys, older and greyer, and now married to Jack’s Mum and with family of his own.  Clint, now Jack and Ianto’s eldest son, but still the snarky archer she’d enjoyed designing trick arrows for, and who’d asked her for more once everything was settled with HYDRA.

Jack, who’d almost been a surrogate father to her.  And Ianto, her brother in everything but blood, both of them content with the family they’d had together.

Then there was Phillip, who’d been a really good friend, and she couldn’t wait to see Melinda May and FitzSimmons again.  They might have been SHIELD, but they’d been just as much family as Torchwood had been.

Plus, new friends…especially Cadi and Alun, the two she’d actually spent time with so far.  She wanted to get to know every single member of the Jones Clan, knowing that they’d accepted her just as easily as Cadi and Alun had, even though they didn’t know her past the stories Ianto must have told them.  She’d been afraid that this might not happen, which had been another reason for staying away, but it appeared as if every single one of them had adopted her as their Aunt Tosh, Ianto’s long-lost sister.  It made her want to tear up.

All that Toshiko needed again in her life was Kathy and their daughter, Tamika.  Oh, and Patrick…and Josh…and Mickey and Martha and Tom…Deborah and Andy…and so many others who’d been in Torchwood or had been dear friends back then.

Maybe someday…

The Green Dragon Inn had changed dramatically from what she’d been able to see.  Gone were the check-in desk and the main lobby, replaced by a lounge with enough seating for a large chunk of Jack and Ianto’s family.  She hadn’t seen any more than that, except for the room she’d been able to set her equipment up in, which doubled as her bedroom.

It was a fairly good size, painted in a pale green colour that was soothing.  A single bed, chest of drawers, and a bedside table made up the furnishings, and a small closet was set in another wall.

Someone had thought to put up a desk as well, and it made the room a little crowded, but Toshiko was used to living in cramped quarters, and this was more than just a step up from her quarters on Smuggler’s Moon.  Either Alun or Cadi must have called in with her requirements, because there was an entire bank of six monitors mounted on the wall over the desk, all brand new and much more high-tech than what she’d had to scrounge on her own.

It hadn’t taken any time at all for her to get things set up to her satisfaction.  Clint had helped; as Jack had told her, back on Dahlnia Prime, he was the techie in the family.  He’d been impressed with her equipment, and had been able to show her how to connect to the secured family network.  He’d only asked her about designing him arrows once, which had made her laugh.  Owen, Diane, and Suzie had also helped with the set-up, and there had been much laughter involved when they were all together.

Now, Clint was gone to Throneworld. 

It had been horrific, the attack on the Palace.  Toshiko had known about Phillip’s magic; she’d been there when he’d first discovered it, and had seen how having it had affected him.  If it was any indication – and the events on Throneworld bore it out – he was a lot more comfortable and a lot more powerful than he’d been back in the heady days of Torchwood and SHIELD fighting aliens together.

Toshiko had gotten back to work the moment that it seemed that Phillip and the Imperial family were going to be alright.  She’d been impressed with the Empress’ speech, giving credit where credit was due, and she was so very proud of her new-found family for doing what needed to be done.

Now, it was her turn.

And she had several resources she could call upon.

Keeping the newsfeed up on one of her monitors, Toshiko began her search, using several keywords in her hunt for HYDRA.  Because it was obvious that this was who was behind what had happened on Throneworld.  The Empress had been correct: whoever had attempted to kidnap the young prince had to be whoever was behind this attack.  It made too much sense otherwise.

Toshiko’s network spanned the Empire, and into some other confederacies and federations beyond their borders.  Her concentration was complete as she sent out her data-mines, hoping to find some trace that had escaped more normal means of searching. 

When the technical genius had been reborn, she’d begun remembering almost from the time she could walk.  Her parents had thought she was touched, and Toshiko had had to do a lot of convincing that she was of value.  Her birth parents hadn’t been the most…parental…people she could have been born to, having been brought up on Smuggler’s Moon themselves, and they only saw what someone was worth and what they could do for them, instead of having any sort of familial affection. 

Her intelligence had had to be proven to them.  And, while she hated to think it, when they’d died it had done her a favour.

It had allowed her to spread her wings and make her own way.  She’d been able to fully embrace her former self, and within a year of their passing Toshiko had become Sakura, starting on her path to becoming the best information broker in the galaxy.

She’d been seven when she’d finally been ready to make her stand; her, and Garrg, her Ogron gofer, was all she’d thought she’d needed.

Toshiko shook her head, trying to get away from her gloomy thoughts.  She needed her full attention on what she was doing, and not dwelling on the past.

She was deep into the underbelly of the information network that connected the Empire in ways that not a lot of people were aware of.  It was the equivalent of what had been called the Dark Net back in the 21st century, and it was where all of the underhanded dealings were done.  To Toshiko, this place was as familiar to her as her own mind, and she delved into it with the finesse of a shark stalking its next meal. 

She was lost in the data streams when something caught her eye.

It was a single phrase: _We do not accept failure._

Pouncing on it, Toshiko tried to trace it.  But even she could lose a data point when it was that small and that hidden, and she cursed in a completely un-childlike way when it dropped away.

That had been the nature of HYDRA’s presence in the streams for a while now.  She’d first gotten wind of it after the events at the Great Library – and yes, she knew about it, even though she was certain she shouldn’t – and had been trying to find the trail of breadcrumbs ever since.  HYDRA liked using various types of comm channels, utilising a form of burst communication packets that were difficult to find, let along track.  That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to keep trying, but even she was fallible…as much as she didn’t want to admit it.

As she was leaning back in her chair, disgusted with herself and her algorithms for failing to find HYDRA once again, the upper right-hand monitor went black, a cursor appearing to blink in the corner, as if taunting her.

There was only one person out there who could get into her system like that, and Toshiko smiled as she let him take control of that section, waiting to see what he was going to tell her.

Most likely, it was going to be some version of, _I told you so._

The cursor began to move on its own.

_I see you finally made it home._

Yep, there it was.

Toshiko’s smile went just a little bit wry.  She began to type.

_And I see you’re just as insufferable as ever, Tony._

Even though she couldn’t hear it, she just knew the living computer was laughing at her.

_But you love me anyway._

He was right; she did.  Tony Stark might have been an unrepentant arse, but he was a loveable unrepentant arse.

Toshiko had been surprised that Tony was still around.  She’d known about the whole transferring his consciousness to a computer thing; in fact, she’d helped him, albeit reluctantly.  It had started out as a way to remotely control his various armours, and had grown out of Holden Radcliff’s research into LMDs.  Radcliff had had some really good ideas, especially those that had come from his collaboration with Leo Fitz; it hadn’t really been the man’s fault that his premier creation, AIDA, had gone megalomaniacal after reading the Darkhold, which had warped her programming into taking over SHIELD instead of _being_ the shield for Phillip’s agents at the time.  Of course, he hadn’t stopped her, either.

After that particular debacle – and after she and Tony had ‘made up’ from their disagreement over the Sokovia Accords – they’d gotten a hold of the research and had torn it apart in order to find the flaws.  Tony had ended up devising a way to use the basic LMD information transfer apparatus to fly his armours using only his mind.  Toshiko hadn’t been all that sure about it being a good idea, but Tony had persevered and she’s tried her best to make certain any issues with the process were negligible.  It had meant he didn’t need to be present to be Iron Man any longer, something that Pepper had been all for; she’d been unbelievably supporting, but it had preyed on her mind that the man she’d loved could be killed by a would-be conqueror anytime he and the Avengers got called out.  Anything that had kept Tony safe had been just fine in her books.  It also hadn’t hurt that they’d been able to adapt some of the tech for public use.

Tony had also done some work with the Framework that Fitz had come up with and later abandoned after AIDA had corrupted it, as well.  When she’d discovered that her friend had finally managed reverse engineer the actual transfer apparatus and to upload his entire personality to a neural network, she’d been very worried for him and had tried to talk him out of it.  To be honest, she hadn’t expected his mind to still be alive after all these years, pointing out at the time that it was entirely possible that any sort of personality would degrade after a while. 

She’d been wrong, and she’d admitted it the first time they’d talked over the comms like this, after she’d built up her information network and had tapped into Stark’s World’s own communications channels just to see if she could.

Needless to say, it had been a very pleasant shock to find out that Tony was still around.  She’d thought that Stark’s World had simply been named after him, and not that he was still the living computer that had been running things there for at least a couple of millennia. 

Toshiko had been happy to know he was alright and that nothing had happened to him, like she’d thought it would.  Although she’d been curious as to why he didn’t have any of his avatars anymore, and had been content to simply exist within Stark’s World’s asteroid-sized central core.  He never really answered her on that, either.

He’d been the one to start convincing her to get in touch with Jack and Ianto, and she’d demurred, wanting to wait until she was older.  Tony was obviously pleased to know she’d actually gone and done it.

Still, she wasn’t going to agree with him outright, because of _principle_.

_Is there a reason you’re hacking my feed, Tony?   Or are you just being your usual, irritating self?_

She knew he’d realise she was teasing him, and react accordingly.

_Do I need a reason to hack my favourite person’s data streams?  I think I might be offended._

Toshiko thought she might need to set up a comm link between here and Stark’s World, so they could talk directly instead of having to type as if this was some sort of ancient instant messaging program.  She’d get on that as soon as she could.

 _Besides,_ he went on, _the moment I saw your coordinates I had to check in and say, ‘I told you so’._

Toshiko laughed out loud at that, glad she was by herself for the moment.  Every member of her former team had been in to chat with her, but she really worked best when she was alone.

 _Of course you did,_ she answered. 

_I also wanted to see if Agent was alright.  Saw that mess on the newsfeeds.  Fuck, I had no idea he was that powerful!_

_I didn’t either.  But I’m thinking he’s going to be fine.  Clint should be checking in as soon as he knows anything._

_Good.  That was some impressive shit.  The Empress didn’t come right out and say it, but we’re assuming this was HYDRA.  Right?_

_Exactly.  I’ve been hunting for some sort of presence of them in the under-channels, but all I’ve been able to find was a single sentence about not accepting failure.  No matter how good I am, those instant bursts of information packets always seem to elude me!_

It was unbelievably frustrating, even though she knew it wasn’t her fault.  Someone in HYDRA was a genius, and they were using that intelligence to its fullest.  Toshiko seriously doubted, though, that anyone else would have even caught that quick-fire transmission.  She’d only seen it because she’d gone looking.

_Well, I might have something for you.  You know about the Persephone raid, right?_

She did.  Cadi and Alun had shared it with her, on their journey to Dahlnia Prime.

_I did some back traces in the dedicated server that Uther Pendragon was using for his research, and managed to find a trail back to a company called Kenda Facilities.  It’s a smallish tech company on Correa Ten.  But it appears to be some sort of front._

Toshiko sat forward, intrigued.  _Can you send me what you found?_

_Be glad to.  But that’s not all.  I got behind the front, and it led to another shell company…and it kept going.  Managed to get through eight of the suckers before I got a real hit: Thorne Consolidated, on Trafusis._

That company name wasn’t familiar, so Toshiko ran an info search on it.

But Trafusis…

 _Jack, the Doctor, and Cadi are currently on Trafusis,_ she sent back.

_Well, that certainly doesn’t surprise me.  How did they get there?  You?_

She admitted as much.  _A pair of criminals named H and G are the ones who betrayed Sabrina and led her into the trap that killed her.  They were heading for Trafusis, and Jack and the others were going to cut them off._

_Look, you need to let them know what’s going on.  I’m sure you’re checking on it yourself, but Thorne Consolidated is owned by Petra Thorne, who’s an Imperial Councillor._

Toshiko’s heart thumped painfully.  _She could be the one who…_

She knew she didn’t have to say it. Tony would get her meaning.

_Yeah.  Get to Pendragon and Barton, and let them know.  The threat isn’t over yet…_

 

 


	27. Chapter 27

 

**_3 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Imperial Throneworld_ **

****

Clint sighed, leaning back in the really uncomfortable chair that had been pulled in for him to sit next to Phillip as his mate slept, the bone regenerator wrapped around his broken leg.  He was trying to process the fact that he’d almost lost him, _again_ , and it was taking a lot for Clint to come to terms with it.

They’d been taken to the Playground, and Phillip had been installed in the Shieldsmen’s own infirmary, the better to keep security tight around them.  Steve trusted his men implicitly, especially the ones he’d put on guard just outside; then the Grand Master had left them alone, needing to start the investigation into just what had occurred at the Palace.  Someone had to have planted those explosives, and Steve was determined to figure out who it was.

Melinda May had been in to visit…or, at least to get a good look at Phillip, making certain he was still alive and breathing.  Then she’d made a threat about him not getting into trouble again without her there to watch his back, and had left once more, to help in the clean-up and enquiry into events. 

Clint had thought it was funny; Phillip, who’d been awake at that point, not so much.  However, the dragon could tell that his mate was touched by his Second’s concern.  Phillip and May had been friends a long time, cared for each other in their own way, and he knew that Melinda would be getting her own form of vengeance against whoever had set that bomb and had tried to murder Phillip.

He wasn’t alone in the room.  Everyone but Arthur was sitting vigil, in their own ways.  Nicole was sleeping deeply on a cot that one of the medics had set up for her, lines of exhaustion on her pale face.  Nathan was seated beside his twin, his attention divided between Nicole and his also sleeping dad.  Lisa had taken up a space on the floor, back wedged into the corner and legs drawn up to her chest, head resting on the arms that were crossed over her bent knees, and Clint thought she might have been dozing.

Arthur was helping coordinate the investigation, on behalf of the Star Dragons.  As Phillip was a family member, it was their right to be involved.  Plus, of them all, Arthur had the most military-minded bent, which meant he was an excellent tactician, and would be the most help.  He was off somewhere with Melinda, working with the teams she’d brought with her, especially the forensics personnel. 

That left Merlin.

Clint’s nephew hadn’t left Phillip’s side, concern etched across his face.  He’d been watching Phillip closely, as if afraid he was going to do something else unprecedented…not that Clint thought his mate would, especially while asleep, but Clint could understand the scrutiny.  The magic that Phillip had brought to bear in order to save everyone…it should have been beyond him.  Clint was very familiar with the limits of the ice magic, and that had gone far above and beyond them.

He wondered what Merlin could _see_ , with his magical senses. 

And so, he asked, quietly, in order not to awaken his mate or his daughter.

Merlin sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face.  He looked tired, but Clint knew his nephew was made of sterner stuff than to let a little magical weakening knock him on his arse.  “I see…Uncle Clint, I’m not sure just _what_ I see when I look at Uncle Phillip magically, not anymore. I’m going to have to do a full assessment, but I know it’ll have to wait until this is over with to get him to sit still long enough to perform it.”  He sighed again.  “I wish Dad was here.  I could use his sonic screwdriver to do a comprehensive scan for the GH325 and see how it’s reacting to all this.”

Clint shuddered.  “Is that a danger?” It hadn’t been all that long ago that the formula that was keeping his mate alive past his time had been overwhelmed by the dark magic he’d been exposed to.  They’d all thought it had been fixed when FitzSimmons had whipped up another dose of GH325 and had injected it into his mate.

“I don’t think so…not this time.  You saw how quickly he went back to normal afterward.”

He had.  Phillip’s skin had been that awful white of magical overload, but had faded back to normal by the time they’d gotten him loaded onto the ambulance to bring him to the Playground. 

“I think, if there was a danger of that sort of thing happening again, Uncle Phillip wouldn’t have settled back into normalcy.  But I can’t help but wonder just how the GH325 was dealing with the damage that sort of exposure had done.  We already know it’s healing his leg at its usual pace.”

That was true.  The regenerator really hadn’t been necessary except to speed things along even faster than it would have taken to heal naturally.  Well, naturally for Phillip, that was.  It would have taken about three days to heal usually, and utilising the skeletal regenerator meant that Clint’s mate would be up on his feet by morning. 

It had taken a little over two weeks for Phillip’s hand to grow back that time it had been chopped off, in order to save his life from the tainted Terrigen crystal he’d caught to keep it from killing anyone else.  Clint still shivered to remember it.

“But he shouldn’t be that powerful,” Clint pointed out.  “Would it have something to do with all that dark magic he was exposed to?”

Merlin flinched at that, and Clint couldn’t blame him.  His nephew had taken all the fault for that, when in fact it had really been beyond his control.  Merlin might have been the most powerful wizard of the age, but he wasn’t all-powerful.  He was still a fallible individual, and hadn’t had time to consider the consequences of his attempt to stop Lucy Cole from using all that death energy. 

No one blamed Merlin what had happened, least of all Phillip himself.  Still, Clint had been a witness to the nightmares his mate was suffering, and the fact that Phillip hadn’t slept through the night in a while.  Still, they’d had a new baby in the house as well, but Clint knew the majority of his mate’s insomnia had been caused by the resurgence of the terrors that had plagued him back at the beginning of everything, when his memories of TAHITI had been forced upon him by Raina and Centipede.

Which had actually been a blind for HYDRA.

He wasn’t going bring that up.  Merlin had enough to deal with.

“That’s what I’m thinking,” Merlin admitted.  “Like I said, I’m going to have to completely re-evaluate him to know the new extent of his magic.  I only wish I’d done it before now.”

The guilt was rolling off the wizard in waves, and Clint needed to nip that in the bud before it ate Merlin alive.  “Not your fault.  You had no way of knowing this would happen.”

“Yeah.”

Clint wanted to get up and hug him, but in that moment First Shieldsman Charlton appeared in the doorway.  He looked apologetic, but determined, and once again Clint couldn’t quite get past the idea that he’d met the man before. 

“I was wondering if I could have a word with Mr. Jones-Coulson?” he requested, looking directly at Clint.

Clint frowned.  “Has something happened?” he demanded, his heart rate ramping up a little in the beginnings of an adrenaline rush.

“No,” Charlton answered hastily.  “I just…have some news I thought you needed to hear.”

“Go on, Uncle Clint,” Merlin said. “I’ll stay on guard.”

Merlin was fairly tired, but Clint trusted him.  “Alright.  If anyone wakes up, let them know I’ll be back shortly.”  He turned back to the First Shieldsman.  “This won’t take long, will it?”

The man looked torn, but replied, “No, Sir.  I just need a little bit of your time.”

“Go on, Dad,” Nathan murmured.  “Merlin and I will be fine.  Besides, it must be important if Brant is wanting to talk to you.”

Charlton gave Nathan a grateful smile.  “It is.  Really important.”

Clint wondered when his son had gotten on a first-name basis with an Imperial Shieldsman, and he would be asking about that later, but for now he would trust Nathan.  He got up from his chair, and followed Charlton out into the hallway.

“I wouldn’t be asking to speak to you if it wasn’t important,” Charlton reiterated Nathan’s words as he led Clint into a small conference area just off the main infirmary.  It was empty, and the Shieldsman sealed the door behind them once they were inside.  “Can I get you a coffee or something?” he asked, heading toward a small kitchenette in the corner of the room.

“Coffee would be fine.”  He knew it wouldn’t be anything like his Tad’s, but that was okay for now.  Clint needed the caffeine, and any source right now would work.

He took a seat at the round table in the middle of the room while Charlton fiddled with the coffee machine, pouring them each a cup.  Then the Shieldsman set the mug down in front of Clint, taking the seat next to the dragon.

The man looked as if he really didn’t want to say anything, but Clint could see the exact moment with Charlton got himself together enough to speak.

“I don’t know if you’re aware of it,” he began, “but I was on the detail that stopped HYDRA from taking Prince Joshua from his school a couple of months ago.”

Clint hadn’t been aware of that, and said so.

“I’m really only telling you this because I need you to trust what I have to say,” Charlton continued.  “It’s important that you know something about me that’s going to shock you, but I swear to you…it’s not as bad as you’re gonna think.”

Okay, Clint was officially confused.  “If my son thinks you’re a good guy, then I can’t believe anything you have to say is going to make me change my trust in Nathan’s opinion of you.”

Charlton actually blushed a little.  “Well, he doesn’t know about who I really am.  If he did, he might take that back.”

It was the way he said it – sounding almost defeated – that has Clint’s inner alarm ringing a little. 

But Steve had hired him.  Had vetted the man, who’d risen within the ranks of the Shieldsmen until he’d become a First, the highest someone could go that wasn’t the Grand Master or Second of the organisation.  Anything bad would have been discovered when Charlton had applied for a position…

But…

No.

Clint was suddenly on his feet, the chair dragging on the carpet.  “You’re a reincarnation!”

Charlton sighed, hanging his head, staring into his coffee mug in chagrin.  “You were always pretty smart, little brother, despite what I might have said to you when we were kids.”

The dragon suddenly couldn’t breathe. 

“Barney?” he gasped in utter shock.

Charlton nodded faintly.  “Yeah.”

With that confirmation, Clint fell back into his seat with a thud.  It wasn’t possible…

Back in his first life, Barney had been his older brother.  Barney had been the one to talk an impressionable kid into leaving the orphanage they’d ended up in after their then-parents had died and joining the circus where Clint had learned all about sharpshooting and had discovered his preternatural ability to hit everything he aimed at.

Where he’d become Hawkeye, the World’s Greatest Marksman.

Things hadn’t turned out all that well between him and Barney.  Barney had gotten jealous of Clint’s skills, and had turned out just as abusive has their dad had been.  Eventually, Barney had fallen into a life of crime, and had left Clint bleeding and bloody in a ditch in a rural part of America; Clint didn’t even remember the name of the place. 

It had led him to becoming a mercenary…and had gotten him on SHIELD’s radar. 

Where he’d met a certain SHIELD agent, who’d turned out to be his soulmate thousands of years into the future after Clint had died the first time.

“You…remember?” Clint asked faintly. 

“Yeah,” Charlton – Barney – answered. 

“But…how?”  It was impossible.  Barney shouldn’t have remembered anything of that past life…but it came to him in a rush, even as his former brother confirmed it.

“It was HYDRA.  They found me, and made me remember who I’d been.  They wanted me to join them, to be their man inside the Shieldsmen.  It would be my chance to get revenge, they said.”  Barney snorted.  “Like I’d want revenge against you for being immortal, and for you dragging your ass up out of that ditch I’d left you in and making something of yourself.”

“You turned them down.”  Clint couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. 

His brother, who’d ended up hating Clint so much during their lives together, hadn’t taken HYDRA up on their offer.

They’d suspected that HYDRA had found others and had forced their former life’s memories on them, but hadn’t been able to persuade them to sign their souls away to them.  It had been confirmed by Agravaine unintentionally, during an interrogation session at Stormcage. 

And, here was Barney, sitting across from him, and Clint had wondered why he hadn’t seen his brother in the Shieldsman opposite him.

“Hells yeah, I turned them down, but I didn’t bother to let them know that,” Barney scoffed.  “I have a good life now.  I love working with Steve and the Shieldsmen, and I have a wife and kids.  I suppose it’s sort of a way for me to make amends for all the bad I did back then.”

“Did you know when the attempt on Prince Joshua took place?”

Barney nodded.  “They’d wanted me to help them for that, which was why they tried to recruit me.”

“Does Steve know about it?”

“I told him the moment it happened,” Barney admitted.  Then his smirked.  “Why do you think he went ahead and put me on Prince-watching duty? It was a trap for HYDRA.  I confessed everything to him, and that was how he knew he could trust me, and we made a plan.  Didn’t turn out so good for HYDRA, in the end.  Unfortunately, it also blew my cover, and I ended up nearly getting killed, but that’s fine.”

Clint shook his head in amusement.  “That’s Steve for you.”  He was a little surprised that the Grand Master hadn’t said anything to his Dad and Tad, back when they’d last been to Throneworld, but he could very easily Steve wanting to protect his people. 

Barney chuckled.  “Yeah.  He’s probably the best boss I’ve ever had.  Took my family into protective custody immediately, made sure HYDRA didn’t retaliate against them.”

There was nothing for it.  Clint got up, went around the table, and gathered up his long-lost brother in a hug.  It wasn’t quite the same as before; this Barney was built differently, more muscle and a bit taller, but it felt a little like coming back to a place he hadn’t even known he’d missed.

Not home…never home.  That was with the family that was his for eternity.  No, Barney was something completely different.  Someone he wouldn’t mind having back in his life once more.

They clung to each other for a while, but finally Clint pulled away, taking his seat once more.  He just knew the sappy smile on his face was a bit silly, but he didn’t care. 

Barney was wiping his eyes self-consciously.  “Been waiting a long time to do that.  I’m hoping you’ll let me make up for some of the shit I did to you back then.”

“New life,” Clint shook his head, “new chance.  Blank slate.”

The Shieldsman looked unbelievably grateful.  “Still, I have to admit I have another reason for telling you this.”

“I figured.”  Clint honestly believed that Barney might not have said a thing if he hadn’t needed to.

“Look,” Barney’s face turned grim, “I don’t have any proof of this…Steve was a little put out when my cover was burned after they tried to take little Joshua, so I can’t say for certain I’m right.  But…I think your mate being here for that bomb going off wasn’t a coincidence.”

“I think the same.”  It had been the first thing that had crossed his mind, after he’d stopped his major freak-out over nearly losing Phillip again.  “I know Phillip thought his being called to Throneworld was some sort of power play, for the Council to try to get the Institute under their control, but after this…”

“Yeah, an obvious trap,” Barney agreed. “Thinking back on it, that is.”

“It could very well have taken out most of HYDRA’s more powerful opposition.”

“Yeah, but see…I don’t think that was their intention…at least, not in the way you think.”

Clint frowned.  “But if their goal wasn’t to kill the Imperial family, Phillip, and Steve all in one shot…”

“HYDRA is very aware that your mate is immortal, only they don’t know how it works.  I think, as far as they’re concerned, killing Phillip Coulson wasn’t gonna happen.”  Barney took a deep breath.  “Besides, there’s at least four other people perfectly capable of taking over Torchwood and keeping up the fight.  No, they wanted to discredit Torchwood, and they were going to use Coulson to do it.”

The dragon leaned back in his chair, considering what Barney had just said.  It made a horrible kind of sense.  No one outside the family really understood what was keeping Phillip alive, and although he wasn’t one of the two true acknowledged immortals in the universe, anyone who didn’t know what was going on would have most likely assumed that the explosion wouldn’t have killed Phillip.  And it could have.  Maybe not easily, but his mate could very well have died under all that rubble if the Palace had collapsed with him in it.

And, Barney was correct about another thing: if something _had_ happened to Phillip, either Melinda, Arthur, Anwyn, or his Dad could easily have stepped into the Director’s role until someone else could be appointed, and chances were it would have been someone within the family, so HYDRA wouldn’t have gotten a foothold in that way.

But, if they could discredit Torchwood in another way…

Clint, suddenly, got exactly what Barney was intimating.

“They were planning on framing Phillip for the bomb.”

Oh, but that made so much sense!  It would throw a bad light onto Torchwood, if the Director of the Institute was implicated in the murder of the Imperial family.  Torchwood had quite a lot of power and respect within the Empire, and sowing that sort of discord would be right up HYDRA’s alley.

Plus, it would most likely affect opinion on the Pendragon Protocol.

He wasn’t supposed to know about the Pendragon Protocol, but Phillip had been really unhappy about it, even if he’d been able to see the sense of it.

If it came out that Arthur had been named as successor in case the entire family was killed…it would look as if Torchwood had somehow influenced events, and with that Once and Future King shit hanging over Arthur’s head…oh, this would get so ugly, so fast.

However, as far as Clint was aware, HYDRA didn’t know about the protocol.  Still, it would have played right into their hands if it had had to have been enacted. 

Clint cursed, loudly and fluently in about six different languages, including Old Earth English. 

“Pretty much,” Barney agreed.  “But it won’t work now.  The entire Empire just saw Coulson save the Imperial family.  Any shade HYDRA had set up to throw over him won’t stick.  He’s a hero, and the Empress will dispute any sort of finding like that in the investigation.  So will Steve.  They’re witnesses.  The worst thing HYDRA could’ve done was getting Coulson here.”

If what Barney was guessing was right, then yes…HYDRA had just made a major blunder.  In wanting to discredit Phillip and Torchwood, they’d just solidified the Institute’s stature and prestige.  The Empress would stand up to whatever sort of evidence they’d managed to plant – and Steve would find that, soon enough – and immediately call out the attempt to frame the new hero of the Empire for what it was…a transparent attempt to bring down the Torchwood Institute.

Clint sighed, pushing his coffee cup away and resting his head on the hard surface of the table.  Phillip had, inadvertently, catapulted himself onto the intergalactic scene.  He didn’t think HYDRA could touch his mate now without serious repercussions.  If they were hoping to take over the Empire like Uther Pendragon had bragged about, then they wouldn’t dare make a move on someone who was now most likely universally loved. 

Chances were, Phillip was now safe from HYDRA’s machinations.

They could still do something, but Clint doubted it.

“You okay?” Barney enquired.

“Yeah.”  He lifted his head back up, meeting his reincarnated brother’s worried gaze.  “I need to go and talk to Arthur and Melinda.  Have you mentioned this to Steve yet?”

Barney nodded.  “He was the one who suggested I come and tell you.  I mean, I might be far off base on this…”

“No. I don’t think you are.”  Clint stood.  “Do you know where Arthur and Melinda are?”

“I can take you to them.”

“Great.  Let me stop and tell Merlin and Nathan where I’m going.  Then, you and I have some work to do.”

 

 

 


	28. Chapter 28

 

**_3 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Armstrong Dome_ **

**_The Moon_ **

****

“You can watch from here,” Detective Shraeger said, opening a door and ushering them inside.

Ianto took a quick look around.  One entire wall of the small room was dedicated to recording equipment of all sorts, as well as a computer set-up that appeared to be several years out of date.  There were two chairs against another wall, and the third was an entire floor-to-ceiling pane of one-way glass.  The lights within the room were off, and Ianto understood why: even though anyone who’d ever been within a police interrogation room before would know that someone would be watching on the other side of the mirror, it wouldn’t do to give away that fact, and a bright light would do that.  It might have been one-way, but there were still ways to see shadows on the other side.

“Thank you, Detectives,” Ianto said sincerely as himself and his children made themselves comfortable; Alyce and Anwyn were dragging the chairs closer, while Robyn snooped around the surveillance equipment. 

“Not a problem.”  Shraeger waved them off.  “There’s a set of comms over on the desk there.”  She gestured toward where Robyn was nosing about.  “Walsh and I have one each.  If you think of anything, don’t hesitate to share.  Anything we can do to get this bastard to talk will be appreciated.”  With that, she closed the door, shutting them within.

“Here, Tad.”  Robyn held out a small earwig, which Ianto proceeded to place inside his ear canal.  It wasn’t as comfortable as his personal comm, but then that was had been made for him especially, even though no one had ever managed to create one for him that changed sizes when he shifted.  Even Merlin had tried, but without much success.

Then he turned toward the one-way to regard the man currently cuffed to the table on the other side, facing the glass.

He was a large, burly human, and Ianto’s respect for Shraeger went up several points when he thought about how she’d taken him out and had kept him from committing suicide.  He looked to be in his thirties, wearing nondescript clothing, his hair dark and his eyes pale.  He looked…well, not ordinary, but the dragon would have happily passed him on the street and not paid the slightest bit of attention. 

The man’s eyes flickered upward when the door to the interrogation room opened to reveal Shraeger and Walsh, the male half of the team of coppers holding a pad in one hand.  As Ianto watched, Walsh took the single chair opposite the HYDRA man, his back toward the observers, while Shraeger stood in one corner, back against the glass, arms crossed.  He couldn’t see her expression, but Ianto could guess she was giving the man who’d tried to kill her a glare that would have had anyone else squirming.

Their prisoner, though, just gave her a cheeky grin and a wink.

 _“Good morning,”_ Walsh began, his voice coming through a speaker on the wall.  He set the pad down in front of him.  _“You’ve been told what your rights are.”_

The HYDRA goon didn’t respond to that.

 _“I guess this means you’re waiving them,”_ Walsh went on, not seeming to care one way or the other.  He touched the screen of his pad, and Ianto could see text flash across it.  _“Says here you’re Samuel Salem Martin.  You work for Stellar Movers as a driver.  Crimes include shoplifting and a battery charge after a bar brawl during a football match ten years ago.  Seems quite a step up to attempting to murder a police officer.”_ Walsh folded his hands on top of the pad.  _“Add to that terrorist acts against the Empire and you’re looking at a life sentence in Stormcage.”_

Samuel Salem Martin simply sat there, with a smirk on his not too handsome features.

_“Of course, that is predicated on you actually making it to trial.  I understand HYDRA isn’t too accepting of failure.  I wonder what your masters would do once they discover you didn’t manage to murder my partner.”_

“He’s good,” Anwyn murmured.

Ianto had to agree.  And he’d seem some pretty efficient interrogations in his day, from both his mate and his son-by-mating.

Something flickered in Martin’s eyes, and the smirk slipped a little.

Which meant in Ianto’s humble opinion that Walsh had managed to get to him, just a little.

 _“I mean, that’s why they give you those fancy suicide capsules, right?  It saves them time from having to kill you themselves when you manage to completely botch your assignment.”_ Walsh leaned forward.  _“If you decide to cooperate, I’m sure we can get you enough protection to make it to court, and then to get you settled safely at Stormcage.”_

Ianto touched the comm in his ear, toggling it on.  “Maybe you should point out to him that we’ve already captured several HYDRA higher-ups?”

_“You certainly wouldn’t be alone there.  After all, you’re not the first HYDRA operative we’ve managed to capture.  And they’re still perfectly fine, so our security there must be pretty good, right?  I’d think being in prison would be the safest place after you failed completely.”_

Martin’s eyes shifted once more, from Walsh to Shraeger, and then to the mirror itself.  He had to be wondering just who was watching, and it was making him edgy.

 _“But what I don’t understand,”_ Walsh continued in that calm, inexorable way he had, _“is why target my partner?  After all, we’re cops, just doing our jobs, and not involved in your little war.  There’s no reason for you to have risked coming after Shraeger, here.”_

At the mention of her name, Shraeger shifted a little, just enough to bring Martin’s attention back to her. He jerked a little, but then settled, his eyes going back to Walsh.  He attempted to bring that self-satisfied smirk back, but it was a disastrous effort.  Instead of looking confident, he just managed to look vaguely constipated.

“I thought it would have taken longer to get to him,” Alyce whispered.  “Doesn’t this seem a little too easy?”

Ianto had to admit that she was correct.  It _did_ seem as if Walsh was affecting the man a bit too easily, and he said so over the comm.

Shraeger’s arms uncrossed, and one hand came to her side, where a single finger tapped once, silently, against the glass.  Ianto interpreted that to mean that she was thinking the same thing, which wasn’t a surprise.  Both coppers were good at their jobs, and they had to have realised that Martin was giving in just a little so quickly.

“He’s low level,” Anwyn observed. 

She was right, of course, and Ianto relayed that thought to the detectives, even though they had to have realised that already.

But the dragon suddenly figured something else out.  “And he’s not a reincarnation.  I’m willing to bet that only the highest HYDRA are actual awakened souls.”

 _“Look, Samuel,”_ Walsh said, _“we know you’re just a grunt.  Cannon-fodder.  HYDRA never expected you to come through this alive.  Which means you’re not one of the reincarnated souls, either.”_

That earned the detective a startled movement from their prisoner.  _“How did you know – “_ Then he promptly censored himself, pressing his lips together tightly.

 _“We know a lot more than you think.”_ Walsh leaned back in his chair, appearing completely relaxed.  _“You’ve given your loyalty to a group who don’t give a damn what happens to you.  You were set up to die.  You can’t mean to keep quiet after that.”_

Martin’s eyes darted once more to Shraeger.  He licked his lips nervously, obviously torn between whatever oaths he’d given to HYDRA and the fact that they’d sent him to his death. 

“Something else is going on, Tad,” Anwyn pointed out.  “He keeps looking at Detective Shraeger as if he’s expecting her to do something.”

His daughter was correct once more.  Ianto’s eyes narrowed as he continued watching Walsh whittle away at Samuel Salem Martin’s resolve, trying to work out just what he was seeing.

The man seemed a bit uncomfortable with Shraeger’s lack of response.  It was obvious that he was expecting her to make some sort of move. 

It came to him in a rush. 

“I think Martin wasn’t trying to kill Detective Shraeger because of the investigation,” he said urgently into the comm.  “It’s for another reason.”

He saw Walsh’s shoulders tighten a little, and the dragon understood that Walsh agreed with his assessment of the situation. 

 _“You know,”_ he mused, _“I’m beginning to wonder if you were after my partner for a completely different reason than what I’ve been assuming.  You see, I thought it was because we were investigating a HYDRA-instigated attempted murder.  But now…I’m thinking there’s something going on here that doesn’t have anything to do with that at all.”_ He leaned forward, voice going hard.  _“Do you even know why you were sent to kill her?  Or are you so far down the ladder that they didn’t even bother to let you know?”_

That comment had Martin bristling.  _“I know more than you do, cop!”_

_“Somehow, I doubt that.  HYDRA had only one use for you, and you blew it.  As far as I can see, you’re a dead man walking.”_

Suddenly, Shraeger was moving.  She stormed up to the table – or as much a person could storm with just about ten feet separating them from their target – and slammed the palms of her hands into the top, rattling the table and startling Martin.  Walsh sat calmly, as if he’d been expecting just such a move.

The prisoner visibly flinched away from her. 

That confirmed Anwyn’s supposition. 

“Martin is more afraid of you, Detective Shraeger than he is of Detective Walsh,” Ianto murmured even as the copper was confronting Martin.

 _“You’d better be telling us what you know,”_ she growled, doing an excellent imitation of a dragon.  _“You do not want to make me angrier than I already am at you.”_

 _“Fuck you,”_ Martin squeaked.  He was trying desperately to stand up to her, but for some reason the man was completely intimidated by the detective.

Ianto wondered if it had anything to do with what Martin had been told by his superiors.  It had to be the reason why he’d been sent to kill her. 

But what was it?

Something in Casey Shraeger’s past?  To be honest, they hadn’t run any sort of background check on her, not really having access to those resources at the moment.  They knew enough about her record with the police; she was a damned good copper, of that he knew.  Hers and Walsh’s conviction rate was one of the highest on the Moon.  Jack had been a bit surprised that both of them were still at the Second, instead of one of the more prestigious precincts in another dome. 

But the Second handled the strangest cases.  In a way, it was almost like Torchwood had been, back in the days of the Cardiff Hub and the small team Ianto and Jack had put together, before they’d expanded into London and then across Great Britain.  The dragon could see why someone would want to be a part of that sort of thing.

Shraeger continued to confront Martin.  Walsh sat back in his chair, arms crossed, shoulders loose and, if Ianto was any judge, amused.  It was a basic ‘Good Cop, Bad Cop’ routine, although Ianto wondered how many thought that Walsh was the Bad Cop when it was obvious that Shraeger was that, and more. 

 _“Back off!”_ Martin shouted as Shraeger leaned further into his personal space.

 _“You’re useless,”_ Shraeger taunted.  _“You were burned, Samuel.  Burned by the people who you pledged whatever form of loyalty you have to give.  Makes sense…they didn’t give a shit about you when they set you after me.  I’m sure you were dead the moment those orders were given, whether you killed yourself, I killed you…or they got rid of you the moment you showed back up at whatever rendezvous that had been arranged.”_

Martin didn’t say anything, but the dragon would have been willing to bet that the would-be murderer was considering everything that was being said to him even has he was busily being scared witless by Shraeger. 

“Tad,” Robyn said, “I think I might have guessed what’s going on.”

Ianto turned to his younger daughter.  Robyn had her eyes on the interrogation going on, and she was nibbling at her lower lip, pale brows drawn down in thought.  “What, _cariad_?”

“I think HYDRA targeted Detective Shraeger not for who she _is_ …but who she _was_.”

That actually had Ianto freeze for a second, his mind turning over what Robyn had just said.  “You’re saying she’s a reincarnation?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“But who?” Anwyn wanted to know.  “And it’s obvious she doesn’t remember any sort of past life.”

“She doesn’t have to,” Alyce said, coming to stand next to Robyn.  “HYDRA had that crystal.  They had to have been searching for past lives who would help them out.  Who’s to say they also didn’t look for ones who hadn’t?”

That…made sense.  It also had Ianto thinking something else. “HYDRA doesn’t have the crystal anymore…oh, of course.”  The proverbial light flashed on for him.  “They’re afraid we’re going to use it to gain allies.” 

All three of his daughters were nodding, almost in unison, agreeing with what he was saying.  “But we aren’t,” Anwyn said.  “We have experience with reincarnations, and none of us would force the issue.  I’m not saying the temptation isn’t there…”

“But it’s not something we’d actively seek out.”  Anwyn had been correct about that; Ianto _had_ considered finding the rest of their team, but hadn’t wanted to disrupt anyone’s current lives over the need to find all of his lost loved ones.  Jack had been the same.  “I wonder who she was.”

“Has to be someone either from SHIELD, the Avengers, or Torchwood,” his eldest daughter replied. 

Ianto suddenly shivered as he realised that Shraeger wouldn’t have been the only victim.  HYDRA would have most likely made moves on whoever they’d been able to locate before the clan had raided Avalon.  And they’d never know just who those people were; the Empire was a very large place, and that didn’t even count allies or other areas of space not currently in allegiance with them. 

They’d gotten extremely lucky that they’d met Detective Shraeger as they had.  HYDRA might have either succeeded, or Samuel Salem Martin would have been taken into custody and word would never have reached them about him.

Because, despite the fact that Ianto very much wanted his previous loved ones back, he wasn’t about to sacrifice someone to regain them.

The pair of detectives had to have overheard their conversation; Ianto had left the comm on, and it would have picked up their words and transmitted them to Shraeger and Walsh.  Neither of them reacted to what they had to have been overhearing, but Shraeger suddenly stopped haranguing Martin and gave him a shrewd look.

 _“Who am I, exactly?”_ she demanded.

Martin recoiled as if she’d physical struck him.  _“W…what?”_ he stammered, shocked horror on his face.

_“That’s it, isn’t it?  I’m a reincarnation of an old HYDRA enemy.  That’s why you were sent to kill me, to keep my old memories from being brought back. To keep me from joining the fight against HYDRA.”_

The dragon couldn’t keep the smile from his face, impressed at both detectives.  They had Martin right where they wanted him.  There was no way he could deny it, not with his face showing them that they’d just hit the bullseye.

The question was, was he going to admit it?  After all, there was a very real chance he could ask for representation at any time, since his rights had been thoroughly explained already.  Martin didn’t have to say a word, and Ianto had to wonder if the only reason he hadn’t was because he was scared of who would be assigned his case.  Had HYDRA put enough fear in him to make him completely paranoid?  It was obvious just how totally intimidated he was by Detective Shraeger.  What had HYDRA told Martin about her – about that past life – that had him quaking in his boots?

 _“You should know,”_ Shraeger continued, _“that whatever HYDRA told you is most likely wrong.  They wanted you to do their bidding, and they succeeded.  So, you might as well just tell me.  I won’t recall it if you just mention a name, and you’re already in enough trouble that anything you say isn’t really going to mitigate the damage.  Trying to murder a police officer is an automatic life sentence.  But maybe we can put in some sort of good word for you if you cooperate.  Give me a name, Samuel.  Then, maybe if you take that first step you’ll feel better about cooperating with us completely.”_

 _“You should consider what my partner’s telling you,”_ Walsh added.  _“She’s speaking sense.  You don’t owe HYDRA a damned thing.  You were set up to die the moment they put you on Shraeger’s tail.  Make it easy on yourself.”_

Martin’s eyes were darting back and forth between the two. He swallowed convulsively, and then nodded very reluctantly.  _“Alright, I’ll tell you…”_

And then, he spoke a single name that had Ianto gasping in surprise.

 

 


	29. Chapter 29

 

**_3 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Trafusis_ **

****

The Doctor followed Cadi as she led him and Jack through the crowds, going deeper into the darker sections of the capitol city of Argent, his mind whirling a lightyear a minute over what had occurred on Throneworld.

The three of them had watched until the very end, a large group of people gathering around them to observe the newsfeeds as well.  Empress Danielle’s speech at the end had been met with cheers, although there was a bit of cat-calling as well.  Cadi had pointed out to them that Trafusis, while ostensibly a member of the Human Empire, had quite a few people not very happy with them; mostly anarchists and anti-establishment types, and those who had been touched by some form of criminal activity that the Empire hadn’t done anything to stop although that was ostensibly the planetary government’s job.

The Time Lord was very worried about Phillip.  Not because he’d obviously been hurt in the explosion, but because of the level of power he was now exhibiting.  While he hadn’t told anyone outright – of course, River knew, but then she was very familiar with his ways, and Jack had guessed it – one of the reasons he’d hung around as long as he had was because he’d been very concerned about how Phillip was going to react to his exposure to the dark magic that had nearly killed him.  He’d seemed fine, but this…

He’d been glad to see Merlin on the scene.  He’d take care of Phillip and make certain he was fine.

Still, it didn’t keep the Doctor from worrying about his friend, and wishing he could be there just to make sure Phillip was coping.  Still, they had a job to do, and they were going to do it.

They were moving into a more run-down area of the city.  The buildings were huddled together, some of them ramshackle and looking as if they were going to collapse at any second.  It was the very definition of a slum; every major city had them, and although the Doctor knew that the Human Empire did try to take care of its residents as best they could he was aware that there wasn’t a lot they could do on individual worlds like Trafusis.  It had to do with governments and infrastructure, and no matter how affluent a planet was, they still had their poor sections.

They stood out, in Cadi’s shipboard gear, Jack’s greatcoat, and the Doctor’s own ensemble, simply because their clothes were clean and in good condition.

The people were just as ramshackle as the buildings.  Worn clothing…worn expressions…these were the poorest of the poor, trying to make their way the best they could.  Most of them were most likely petty criminals, doing whatever they could to survive, and to feed their families, and the Doctor’s hearts went out to them.

Cadi had done what she could to help these people, by bringing in medical supplies to this doctor she was taking them to meet.  She might have also been a criminal, but she was like her fathers in one respect: she was always willing to do what was right, even if it wasn’t necessarily legal.

There was a three-storey building ahead that blended in with the rest, with its tatty paintjob and dirty windows.  There was nothing to distinguish it from any other structure on the street, except for the rather large man that was lounging on one of the five sagging steps that went up to the peeling green door.  He didn’t look like much, but the Doctor knew immediately that he was dangerous, and it made sense that if this person was as well-liked in the neighbourhood and as useful as a medical practitioner would be, that there would be some sort of bodyguard to make sure nothing happened to the man inside.

Cadi walked right up to the man, a human with obvious alien DNA mixing with the human.  He grinned up at her as she approached, revealing two gold teeth.  “Hey, Cap’n,” he greeted her jovially. “Been awhile.”

She gave him a smile of her own.  “Yes, it has, Jem.  Good to see you’re still around, you old reprobate.  How’s your family?”

Jem laughed at that.  “Doing well.  Although I need to cut down on the spouses.  They’re breeding me out of house and home!”

“Warned you not to get too attached.”

“Yeah, you did.  Shoulda listened before I birthed fifteen kids!”

Cadi shook her head in what had to have been mock despair.  “Is he in?”

“Sure is,” Jem confirmed.  “Got a patient right now, but I know he won’t mind you and your friends waiting.”  He gave Jack and the Doctor the once-over, apparently liking what he saw.  “Got a good lookin’ daddy there, Cap’n.”

That was a surprise.  The Doctor wondered just how he’d been able to tell that Jack was Cadi’s Dad; yes, they did resemble each other, but Jack didn’t look old enough to be her father.

Jack laughed, and Cadi sighed.  “You shouldn’t have said that to him.  He’ll be insufferable for days.”

That got another laugh from Jack, and an even louder guffaw from Jem.  “Now I know where you inherited it from!”  Then he sobered.  “Heard about your sister, Cap’n.  Was sorry to hear about it.  Brina was a good one, and no mistake.”

The Doctor was confused at how this man knew about the relationship between Cadi and Sabrina, let alone what happened, and said so.

“Met Brina back during a dust-up about ten years ago,” Jem answered.  “She saved my arse, and about six others, when a gang war broke out.  She and the Cap’n look enough alike that she didn’t deny it when I asked.  As for how I know:  Torchwood does a lot of good, and word gets around.  I know Doc B was hoping you’d be around, and he’s been keeping his ear to the underground for you, just in case he hears something.”

“You saying he has?” Cadi asked roughly.

“Don’t know.  He hasn’t said.  But he does wanna help.”

Cadi clapped him on the shoulder.  “Thanks, Jem.”

“Welcome, Cap’n.  Take care.”

With that, Cadi took the steps up to the front door.  She didn’t bother to knock, but then the Doctor figured whoever was inside already knew they were there, and anyone who got past the guard on the door would have been safe. Or as safe as anyone was. 

The narrow hallway beyond the door was dark, and wasn’t nearly as dilapidated as the outside.  The carpet was worn, but looked and smelled clean, and the walls must have been washed at some point in the near past.  The paint on them was faded into a sort of pale ecru, and were bare.  There was a staircase along one wall, and doors were on either side, one closed and the other opened, the only light in the hall streaming in from that open door.

Cadi led the way through the open door.  Beyond was a sitting room, with older furniture that seemed well taken-care of; two wingback chairs on either side of a floral-patterned sofa, with mismatched tables separating the three pieces.  A fireplace that appeared to have been used in the past had a black iron screen in front of it, with knickknacks on the slightly soot stained mantel.  Frayed curtains had been pulled apart at the one window, revealing the street beyond, but were streaked with dirt on the outer side, and the Doctor wondered if the filth was a cover, in order to keep from calling unwanted attention. 

Jack made himself at home in one of the chairs, and Cadi took the sofa.  The Doctor prowled around the room, unable to sit still, but the place was pretty much bare of any personality.  Even the tchotchkes on the mantel didn’t tell him much, only that the owner of the house had eclectic taste.

Someone clearing their throat had all three of them glancing toward the door.  A girl stood there; the Time Lord guessed she was about fourteen, with light blue hair parted into a pair of pigtails dangling over each shoulder.  Her dress was most likely a hand-me-down, and was just a little too big for her thin frame, but she looked healthy, her dark skin freshly scrubbed and her face cherubic.

“Cap’n Cadi!” she exclaimed, running forward and practically flinging herself at Cadi, who was instantly on her feet and wrapping the girl up in a tight hug. 

“Adrastea,” she greeted the girl warming.  “You’ve grown!”  She pulled away, giving the girl a broad smile.  “You’re going to be taller than me soon.”

Adrastea was blushing furiously.  “I don’t know…”

Cadi draped an arm around the girl’s shoulders.  “Adrastea, I want you to meet my father, Captain Jack Harkness, and the Doctor.  Dad…Doctor…this is Adrastea.  She’s Doc B’s adopted daughter.”

Jack stepped forward, taking the girl’s hand and kissing it gallantly, causing Adrastea to break out into giggles.  “It’s a pleasure to meet such a lovely young lady.”

“Jack…” the Doctor couldn’t help but tease him.

The immortal rolled his eyes.  “Why can’t anyone just let me say hello?” he asked, sounding put-upon but tossing a wink over his shoulder toward the Time Lord.

That little gesture brought a warmth into the Doctor’s chest, right between his hearts.  It meant that Jack had, indeed, completely forgiven him for what his last incarnation had done.  Yes, he’d believed that was the case, but there had still been that small, niggling doubt that would whisper to him at times that he was there because his son was mated to Jack’s grandson, despite all evidence to the contrary.

Cadi chuckled.  “How’s your dad?”

“He’s fine,” the young girl answered.  “He’s ready to see you now.”

Taking Cadi’s hand, Adrastea led them deeper into the house, past what looked like a fairly contemporary kitchen and into a room that had been fitted out as a study.  Bookcases lined the walls, stuffed full of texts and papers; one entire shelf had been set up to hold data crystals, and they glittered like diamonds in the light from the antique lamp on the large, wooden composite desk.  A comfortable chair took up space behind the desk, worn black fabric soaking in the lamp’s brilliance. 

Another pair of mismatched chairs took up the area in front of the desk, with a small table fitted in between them.  It was bare, but then a man bustled into the room, holding a tray with a teapot and different types of cups perched on it, which he proceeded to set down on it.  “Adrastea, sweetheart, can you fetch the cake from the fridge?”

“Yes, Father,” the girl answered, leaving the room. 

The man was human.  He looked ancient, but his back was straight and he moved like a much younger man.  His full, curly hair was messy, and completely white; wrinkles decorated the corners of his eyes and mouth, which crinkled when he smiled at them.  His clothing seemed to be as old as he was, but cared for; a light purple tunic over black trousers, and sturdy boots.  Old fashioned spectacles were perched on his nose.

“Cadi,” he welcomed her, his voice carrying a flat, near-American, accent.  He hugged Cadi, who grinned as she hugged him back.

Then, to the Doctor’s surprise, she kissed him firmly on the mouth. 

With tongue.

“It’s good to see you again,” he completed once she’d ceased with the lip-lock. 

“And you,” she said warmly.  “It’s been too long.”

“It has been.”  He stepped away, glancing at Jack and the Doctor.  “I recognise Captain Harkness.  But this other gentleman…”

“This is the Doctor,” Cadi introduced.  “Dad…Doctor…this is Doctor Bruce Banner, but everyone calls him Doc B.”

A puzzled look crossed Jack’s face, and the Doctor knew he was trying to pinpoint the name.  He, however, had no problem, and was reaching out to shake the man’s hand quite vigorously, recognising him even though he was so much older than the last record he’d seen.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said, not bothering to keep the excitement out of his voice.  “Although, pardon me for saying so, but I thought you were long dead.”

The bemused smile that Doc B gave the Doctor wasn’t overly surprising.  “So, you know me then?”

“Of course I do!  I didn’t think you were immortal, though.”  He readily admitted to being confused at how this man could be standing there, still alive after over three thousand years.

“Oh, I’m not.  At least, I don’t think so.”

“Wait a second,” Jack interrupted.  “I…know your name, but I can’t place it…”

“Well, it has been a long time,” Doc B allowed.  “I’m not surprised you don’t really remember.  But, you might recall my rather large and green alter ego…”

Jack’s brow furrowed, and the Time Lord knew that he was searching his rather patchy memory for the right one.

When he found it, the immortal’s smile was pleased.  “The Hulk, right?”  Then he frowned in confusion once more.  “But how is that possible?”

The man who’d once been the Avenger known as the Incredible Hulk shrugged. “I have no idea, really.  I age,” he waved at himself, “but at an incredibly slow rate.  As opposed to you, Jack, who doesn’t look as if he’s aged a day.”

The Doctor wanted to get out his sonic and poke it at Banner, but refrained, not knowing just what he might trigger.  But, if he had to guess, he would have thought it had to do with the experimental super soldier serum that the scientist had dosed himself with, which had been responsible for his ‘condition’.

But, while the Rogers family line seemed to have a finite lifespan, it appeared that Bruce Banner’s had continued much longer than it should have.  And there was no telling how much longer it would last.

Cadi looked a little lost.  Her eyes met Banner’s, who had a distinctively shy smile on his face.  “Is there something you’d like to tell me, Doc?” she asked.

“Well, it never seemed to be all that important.  Besides, I’d put that behind me.  I haven’t had an incident in at least a decade.”

“It never even occurred to me that you were the same Bruce Banner that my parents knew back in the early Torchwood days.  Dad might have misplaced who you are, but Tad hasn’t, and Phillip, neither, although he’s had more reminders, especially where memorabilia is concerned.”  She looked a little put out.

Any other sort of recrimination was cut off as Adrastea came back with the cake that she’d gone to fetch.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Banner told her warmly, taking the plate.  “Why don’t you go up to your room and finish your lessons while I talk to Captain Cadi and her companions.”

Adrastea’s face turned mulish.  “But, Father…”

“I’ll be up to visit a little while after we’re done,” Cadi promised.  “Go and do what your Dad says, alright?”

“Okay,” the teenager agreed petulantly.  She hugged Cadi once more before leaving.

“Close the door behind you, please,” Banner requested.

Adrastea did so, leaving them alone.

“Have a seat,” Banner invited.  “Sorry I only have two chairs…”

“That’s fine,” the Doctor said.  “I don’t mind standing.”

“Help yourself to tea and cake.”  He proceeded to pour the contents of the pot into the four cups, taking his own with him when he went to sit in the chair behind the desk.  Both Cadi and Jack took one, as did the Doctor, who never said no to tea.

“I wanted to offer my condolences on Brina’s death,” Banner began.

“Thank you,” Cadi said, and Jack echoed.

“I didn’t know she’d done work here,” Jack continued, taking a sip from his cup.

The Doctor found it somewhat hilarious that his friend had his pinkie out, but refrained from laughing about it.

“The last time was about five years ago,” Banner confirmed.  “She did good work.  It made a real difference how many of the poorer people feel about Torchwood.”  He shrugged slightly. “Of course, I’ve always felt that way, but I had first-hand knowledge, and it’s always better for people to make their own decisions.  Although, I can’t imagine Coulson being all that happy about becoming famous, after what had happened on Throneworld.”

“He’s certainly going to feel like the Empress didn’t do him any favours,” Jack agreed.  “Phillip’s always claimed that he did his best work from the shadows.”

“I can’t keep from thinking this is a good thing, though,” Banner said.  “Especially if what I’ve been hearing is true.  It’s really HYDRA, then?”

“It is,” Cadi confirmed.  “They were the ones responsible for leading Sabrina into the trap that led to her death.”

Banner cursed.  “So, they know how to kill a Star Dragon.”

Jack took up the story about the crystal they’d discovered, the one that HYDRA had been using to search for reincarnated allies.  The Doctor rested a hand on the immortal’s shoulder in support; he knew it wasn’t easy for Jack to be recounting everything.

Banner was angry, the Doctor could tell, but it didn’t seem like the Hulk was going to make an appearance.  Which was a good thing. 

“You know,” the former Avenger said after Jack was done, “I never would have believed in reincarnation back then, but since I’ve seen far too many things to discount it.  They’ve actually gone and reawakened old HYDRA members?  I would have bet good money I don’t have that that would have been impossible.  But, with magic…”  He sighed.  “I’ve come to learn that anything’s possible.”

“We really need your help,” Cadi said, setting her cup down on the tea tray. 

“I’ll do what I can.  Just don’t expect the Hulk to come out and play; I’d prefer that not to happen.”

“No, nothing like that,” Jack assured him.

“We’re hoping you can tell us how to find H and G,” his daughter went on.  “We know they’re on their way here.”

Banner’s expression hardened.  “I wouldn’t be upset to see those two out of the way.  What did they do?”

“They’re the ones who sent Sabrina to her death.”

The muscle in Banner’s jaw jumped at that piece of information.  “They’re working for HYDRA?”

“They’re either a part of it,” the Doctor answered, “or they took money to betray Sabrina.”

“Okay.”  Banner rose to his feet, putting his own cup down onto the desk.  “Let me put out some feelers and see what I can find out.  Where were they coming from?”

“Smuggler’s Moon,” Cadi replied.  “Chances are, we’re here before they are.”

“You’re all welcome to stay here until we get some leads.  Cadi, you know where the guest rooms are.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

“It’s not a problem.  Hopefully I can find out something for you.  Stay here and enjoy your tea, and make sure you eat some of that cake, because if Adrastea gets a sugar rush I’m blaming all of you.  Also, there’s a vidscreen you can use to catch up on news from Throneworld.”  He dug around in a desk drawer and pulled out a battered looking remote, handing it to Jack.  “There’s no dedicated comms, though.  I don’t really have a use for that sort of thing.”  Banner shrugged.  “Most of the people I deal with can’t afford to have anything like that so I didn’t see the point.  But, if you need to contact someone, I can get you to someone who can.”

“We might need to check in with the rest of the family,” Jack responded. “So, if you could arrange it at some point…”

“I will.”

Cadi stood and hugged him, this time without all the kissing, for which the Doctor was grateful.  It wasn’t that he was a prude – he couldn’t be, not with River Song as a wife – but there were just certain things he didn’t need to see, and one of them is Jack’s daughter macking on an elderly man. 

Not that the elderly didn’t need love.  They did. 

“It was good to see you again, Jack.”  Banner held out a hand, which Jack gladly accepted.

“You could have contacted us at any time.”  It didn’t sound accusatory; Jack was just stating the obvious.  “I know Phillip and Clint would have been glad to see you as well.”

“I know, but I’m quite happy here, and I wouldn’t have been able to travel anyway.  Even though I haven’t changed into the Other Guy in quite a while, I’m still not sure I would’ve trusted myself in such a closed environment as a spaceship.”  He gave Jack a self-deprecating smile.  “Although I did use one to get here in the first place.”

“You could always travel with me,” Cadi volunteered.  “My ship is designed to carry dragons, after all.”

Banner didn’t say anything to that.  Instead, he gave them all a friendly nod, and then was out the door, closing it softly behind him.

“That…was possibly one of the biggest surprises yet in this whole mess,” Jack commented, his expression somewhat awed.

The Doctor had been surprised as well.  He’d been so very tempted to get out the sonic and see just what was keeping Bruce Banner alive after so long, but it was only the idea that he might trigger the Hulk that had kept that particular impulse reined in.  He did wonder if it was the man’s alternative self that was unnaturally extending his life, and just how long it would last.

Still, he was perfectly willing to let sleeping dogs lie.  From what he could see, Banner was doing good work on Trafusis. 

He had to admit, though, that he was intensely curious to know how Phillip and Clint would react to knowing that Banner was still among the living. 

The Doctor couldn’t wait to tell them.

 

 


	30. Chapter 30

 

**_3 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Imperial Throneworld_ **

 

Merlin paced the room a little, lost in his own thoughts.

He couldn’t move very far, not with the crowd of people that were in the same room.  Yes, Lisa was still curled up against the wall – it couldn’t be comfortable, all tucked up like she was, and yet she was asleep – and Nicole was on the cot that had been brought in, with Nathan perched on the edge, back against the wall, his own eyes closed.  It was obvious though that his cousin was awake.

It was the other occupant of the room that had the wizard’s attention.

Phillip was deeply asleep, which wasn’t a surprise.  Someone using that much magic was bound to be drained and exhausted; hells, Merlin would have felt the same.  In fact, he was tired now, but then helping hold up an entire section of building was bound to take it out of even the most powerful of magic users…which, of course, was him.

What Merlin didn’t understand was just how his uncle had managed to do it himself for the amount of time it took for them to arrive to help. 

He was well aware of just how much magic Phillip _should_ have had.  He’d been the one to do that first evaluation on Phillip, back after his uncle had taken control of Torchwood.  Up until that time, Merlin hadn’t seen him all that much, and hadn’t done a proper testing, so this sort of power had been previously unknown in the ice mage.

It wasn’t anything _close_ to what he’d seen at the Palace.

Merlin could guess what had caused it, and it was all his fault.

Despite Phillip having forgiven him for what had happened at the Library, absolving Merlin of any blame, the wizard still felt responsible.  He’d been concerned that the influx of dark magic had affected Phillip, above and beyond the original overload, and this was the proof.

It could have been so much worse.

He should have expected something like this.  Sure, he could hear both Phillip and Arthur in his head, telling him to stop it and that he wasn’t all-seeing and to shut up with the pity party, but that didn’t stop him from taking the responsibility for this.  He felt guilty about it.

But, at the same time, if Phillip hadn’t had access to such powerful magic, it was obvious to Merlin that everyone in the damaged Palace would have died.  His uncle’s previous level of power would have been insufficient to prevent the Palace from collapsing. 

The Empire would have been in chaos at that very moment if it hadn’t been for Uncle Phillip.

Young Prince Joshua had been correct: Phillip was a hero, in every sense of the word.

Still, that didn’t actually make Merlin feel any better.

“Stop it.”

Merlin stumbled to a halt, almost colliding into the wall when he took a misstep.  He glared at Nathan, who now had his eyes open and was looking at Merlin knowingly, as if he could tell exactly what the wizard was thinking. 

“You’re making me dizzy,” Nathan went on.  “Plus, Dad would be the first one to tell you that you aren’t responsible for what happened.  HYDRA planted that bomb, and we’re damned lucky that Dad had enough power to keep the Palace upright long enough for us to get everyone out.”

Of course, Nathan was right.  Merlin knew _that_. It had been on his mind, just then, that they’d been lucky that Phillip had been able to do what he’d done.  No one wanted to even consider what would have happened if HYDRA had been successful.

“You do have a point,” Merlin conceded, leaning against the nearest wall and sighing gustily.  “I just…can’t help but worry.”

“I know.  But Dad’s gonna be fine.  So what if he has to re-learn to use the power he has now?  He’s done it before; he can do it again.”

“I can see it, you know?  I can see the magic in him, now that I know it’s there.  I didn’t before, so I didn’t look.”

“What does it look like?” Nathan was curious.

“It’s…a different sort of thing than what I see in other magic wielders.  I’m sure you’ve noticed that our brand of magic,” he waved toward first Lisa, and then Nicole, “is golden.”

The younger dragon nodded.  “Aunt Lisa got all those gold highlights on her scales after she got her magic back.”

“Exactly.  Well, your Dad’s magic is Asgardian, which is a completely different kettle of fish.” Merlin had been to Asgard twice: once at King Thor’s coronal jubilee, which he didn’t recall much of due to the overabundance of mead; and the second time for a short visit in behalf of Torchwood, which had asked for help with an investigation into something that involved Asgardian technology.  He’d actually visited with Loki, and had seen first-hand how alike the ‘mad’ god’s magic was to what Phillip had ‘inherited’.  It had really struck him at the time that his uncle actually _had_ gotten Loki’s magic through some sort of transfer.  Before that moment, that had been an abstract notion to him.

“Anyway,” he continued, “Uncle Phillip’s magic is white, not gold.  It’s linked to the ice magic of the Jotun, the Ice Giants, and is completely unlike anything I’ve ever seen.  It’s like…” he struggled to describe what he actually _did_ see when he looked at the immortal with magical eyes, “it’s like there are snowflakes…no, ice crystals…that dance just under his skin.  Like watching an icy rain that’s occurring _all the time_.  It can be almost hypnotic.  It didn’t used to be so…strong, I guess you’d say.  Like flurries.  Now, it’s more like a storm than anything else, one that rages without end.”  Merlin shrugged.  “It’s hard to describe to someone without magic.”

“I think you did really well.”  Nathan had an expression of awe on his face.  “Wow.  That’s my Dad.”  The look was replaced by a large grin.  But it faded quickly. “Wait…does that mean Daisy has magic, too?  Dad’s magic?”

Merlin’s eyes widened in surprise.  How had that leap of logic happened?

Nathan shrugged when the wizard asked that very question.  “Well, if Dad’s magic is white, like ice…my baby sister has white on her scales.  I can see her getting my other Dad’s purple, but no one in the family has any sort of white on them.  The closest is Aunt Emlyn, but she’s silver-grey…and then there’s me, but that’s more my Margath genetics than anything else, and Nicole, but I think that’s just genetics as well…” He shrugged again.  “It just makes sense, that’s all.”

Merlin was impressed.  Not even Nicole – who had also been able to ‘see’ the magic within her adopted father – had come up with that guess.  Anyone else who at least suspected of magic in little Daisy had been those who’d been in the team at the Library, when Clint had been struck down by a magical burst that had been let loose by Lucy Cole.  It had been Clint who’d informed them that the unborn child he’d been carrying at the time might have been carrying around her other father’s magical abilities.

And, when Daisy had been born with white accents to her scales, Merlin had believed that his uncle had been very much correct in his supposition. 

“We think so,” he admitted, “although Daisy’s too young to show any sort of sign as yet.  Phillip doesn’t know, because he’s so squirrelly about his own magic.”

“You’ve told me now.”

Merlin closed his eyes and cursed mentally. 

He’d been too focussed on Nathan to notice that Phillip had awakened.  He really should have known something like that would happen, because that was just his luck.

Opening his eyes, Merlin looked over at Phillip, who was giving him a glare that was still frightening even though his uncle was still obviously exhausted.  “If you didn’t want me to learn that sort of thing,” he stated baldly, “then you shouldn’t have been talking so loud.”

“I’m sorry, Dad.”  Nathan jumped up, moving toward the bedside.  “We should’ve kept things quieter.”

“That’s fine,” Phillip assured him.  “Although certain people should have made me aware that your youngest sister might be taking after me.” 

The eyebrow he raised in Merlin’s direction spoke volumes.

“We’re not even sure yet,” the wizard hastened to add.  “It was Uncle Clint who thought so, but Daisy hasn’t shown any sort of magic yet, and I’ve been looking.”

His uncle struggled to sit up, and Nathan helped by using the controls to raise up the head of the bed.  Phillip looked pale, but at least his skin was back to its usual colour.  He didn’t look very happy, but he sighed and said, “It seems I’m going to need to have a talk with my mate, but I can certainly understand why this was withheld from me.  However, as it concerns my daughter, I want to be kept in the loop from now on.”  He gave both Merlin and Nathan a weak smile.  “Although this explains why Daisy felt we were keeping her room too warm, according to the Doctor’s translating her baby talk.”

“You know,” Merlin said, “Uncle Clint doesn’t believe that.”

“But we both know that your father has a sentient time machine that translates all sorts of languages.  I don’t find it all that hard to believe that she would also help the Doctor understand what my infant was babbling.”

Then he glanced at Nathan. “Would you mind finding me a glass of water, son?”

“Not at all.  One second.”  With that, Nathan touched his dad’s hand and then turned and left the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

Which meant that Merlin was left at Phillip’s mercy.

The one good thing about it was the ice mage would hesitate to awaken Lisa and Nicole, which meant no yelling would be involved.

“Merlin,” Phillip began, his eyes shadowed and tired, “you know I don’t blame you, right?”

Of course, his uncle would hit the nail on the head with his first words.  “I know it in my head,” he admitted, “but my hearts I still can’t help feeling guilty.”

“That’s understandable.  You’re a good man, and it makes sense you’d feel that way.  But I’m not going to stop telling you until you believe it.”

In that moment, Merlin wanted to cry.  His Uncle Phillip, a man he could have easily killed when he’d dumped all that dark magic into him, was saying that it wasn’t his fault. 

He recalled the conversation he’d had with his mother, on the side of a mountain in Ddraig Llyn, and it was like another small sliver of peace had come to rest within his soul.  He knew he’d always feel some slight guilt, but it was like a balm knowing that he truly wasn’t to blame. 

Merlin also knew it would take a long time before he was fine with what he’d done.

Anything else he might have said was interrupted by the door opening.  “Look who I found,” Nathan announced, entering the room with Clint right behind him, the Shieldsman who’d asked to speak with Merlin’s other uncle hovering just outside the room. 

Clint darted around Nathan, who was indeed holding the requested glass of water, to come up to the bed and wrap his arms about his mate.  “Don’t _ever_ scare me like that again, alright?” Clint whispered, just loud enough for Merlin to catch.

Whatever Phillip said was too low, but Clint pulled back and said, “You’d better,” before kissing the ice mage to within an inch of his life.

Merlin felt himself blushing at such a sign of relief and affection between his uncles, and he turned away to give them a semblance of privacy.  Nathan was shaking his head, and despite the dusky tone of his skin the wizard could tell he was blushing as well. 

“Ew, Dads,” Nicole’s voice interrupted the scene, “you can’t wait until you’re not in public for that?”

The wizard found himself looking toward her.  She didn’t seem quite as tired as she’d been, her face not as pale and her twin-pupiled eyes glittering in happiness despite her disgusted whining.  He laughed as Clint and Phillip broke apart, Clint grinning and Phillip giving a put-upon sigh.

“I can kiss your dad whenever I want to,” Clint teased.  “And, when you find your mate, young lady, you’ll be the same way.”

“Sure, Dad.”  She sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the cot.  She ran her fingers through her hair in a wasted attempt at straightening it up; it simply resembled more of a birds’ nest than it had before. 

Her twin, minus the glass now, was at her side in an instant, helping her to her feet.  “You alright?” Nathan asked worriedly. 

“Still a bit tired,” Nicole admitted, “but I’m much better.”  Her eyes tracked back to her parents; Clint had settled on the side of Phillip’s bed, begin careful not to jostle the still-working bone regenerator.  “How are you, Dad?”

Merlin was always surprised by Clint and Phillip’s ability for knowing exactly which ‘Dad” they were addressing at any given time, as they all had never differentiated between the two.  Still, it was obvious this time that she was talking to Phillip, who gave her a tired yet reassuring smile. 

“I’ll be just fine, Nicole.  I could use some more sleep, but some people insisted having a rather loud conversation.”  He looked between Merlin and Nathan.

Merlin refused to give into his embarrassment and look away.  Instead, he shrugged helplessly, not about to ask for forgiveness for his part in Phillip finding out about Daisy.

“And you.”  Phillip reached up and tugged on Clint’s ear a little roughly; Clint squawked at the indignity.  “You and I are going to have a little talk about you hiding things from me about our children.”

Uncle Clint immediately guessed what the ice mage was referring to, and reached up to rub the back of his neck in the easily recognisable sign that he was chagrined but not about to back down.  “I’m sorry if it slipped my mind, with everything going on.  Besides, I was going to talk to you anyway, because something happened today that you need to be aware of…but we don’t really have time right now.  I need to speak to Arthur and Melinda about something I just heard, and it’s important to the investigation on what exactly happened at the Palace.”

Phillip’s expression went blank, a sure sign that he was back firmly into mission mode.  “What?”

Clint twisted around on the bed, motioning the Shieldsman who’d asked to speak with him into the room.  As Charlton entered, Lisa also stood, their discussion also having awakened her.  She also appeared more rested, even though sleeping in the position she’d taken – and in her human form – couldn’t have been comfortable. 

“This,” Clint introduced, “is First Shieldsman Brant Charlton.”

Phillip gave the man a small yet sincere smile.  “You’re the one that accompanied Nathan around the capitol,” he said.  “Thank you for that.”

Charlton appeared a little uncomfortable at the gratitude.  “It was an honour, Director Coulson.  Nathan’s a great kid…although I’m aware he’s older than me.”

The immortal huffed a laugh.  “That he is, First Shieldsman.”

Merlin couldn’t help but notice the nervous expression on Uncle Clint’s face, though, and an internal alarm began going off in his head.  He didn’t know why, though, and was hoping they’d get some sort of explanation for that.

And he did.

Phillip looked unhappy at first, hearing that the Shieldsman standing before them was actually the reincarnation of Uncle Clint’s brother from his first, remembered life, and Merlin didn’t understand why.  Clint had never mentioned having a brother, and there had to have been a good reason for that, and his immortal uncle’s expression confirmed that supposition.

Nathan, however, didn’t seem all that upset, and in fact was pretty pleased at this turn of events, which spoke volumes.  Apparently, he didn’t know what had occurred between the two former brothers, either, but he liked and respected the Shieldsman.

But then, it came out that Brant Charlton – Barney Barton – had been approached by HYDRA, had had his former memories awakened, and then they’d attempted to recruit him.  That he’d let them, and then promptly betrayed them to Steve.

As the story continued, Merlin could see Phillip relaxing more and more, nodding once or twice at the Shieldsman’s theory about why it had been so important that Phillip be on Throneworld just in time for a bomb to go off. “That makes sense,” he mused, his eyes a little unfocussed as he began fitting Charlton’s words into the mental puzzle that he must have been assembling all this time. 

Uncle Phillip was a tactician.  While maybe not on the same par as Arthur, who’d been raised in his first life to be both a warrior and a king, Phillip Coulson could often see several steps ahead, and was supremely good at solving mysteries.  The few times that he and Arthur had played chess, it had been amazing to watch.

So, seeing him beginning to put all this information together was actually pretty calming for Merlin, like a sign that his uncle was going to be just fine after all the disparate events that had occurred in the last several months.

After Clint was finished, Phillip gave a long glance at Charlton.  “I do have a question.”

“Sure, ask me anything,” the man said, settling into a parade rest and giving Phillip every bit of his attention.

“Why didn’t HYDRA kill you once it was obvious that you’d turned on them?”

That…was something that Merlin hadn’t considered.  Neither had Clint, judging from the shock in his face.

Charlton was considering the question.  “The moment they tried to recruit me, I did actually agree to it, so they didn’t know I’d turned coat until they attempted to kidnap the prince.  I did speak to my wife, who agreed with me that telling the Grand Master had been the thing to do.  Steve’s been looking after Laura and the kids ever since.”

“Did this man give you a name?  The one who tried to convince you to join with them?”

“No, Sir.  He didn’t.  But from what he claimed, he was a reincarnation of someone who was once in HYDRA.”

Phillip nodded.  “That makes sense.”  His eyes turned sharp.  “Thank you for telling my mate, Shieldsman…do you prefer your current name, or your old one?”

“Current one, Sir.”  Charlton shrugged almost self-deprecatingly.  “I don’t much like myself as Barney Barton, after everything I did.  Brant Charlton is my chance to make things good.”

The immortal obviously approved of the answer.  “I can understand that.  But, keep in mind that, now that we know who you are, Clint will most likely want to reconnect with you.”

“I do, too,” Nathan declared.  “It’s not every day we gain a new uncle.”

“Exactly,” Nicole echoed. 

Uncle Clint looked very pleased by that.  “You’ve got yourself a family, Brant…well, another one at least.”  He was grinning widely.

“We really don’t have time for a full family reunion,” Phillip reminded them.  “We need to talk to Arthur and Melinda.  That is, if Steve hasn’t already.”

“I’m sure he has by now, Sir,” Brant said.  “He was the one who sent me to talk to Clint.”

“Pardon me for saying it,” Merlin finally spoke up.  He couldn’t help but be a little angry on Charlton’s behalf; after all, he hadn’t asked to remember who he’d been, and there was no telling what this was doing to his family.  For the wife and children who’d known him as Brant Charlton, and not Barney Barton.  He certainly hoped they were getting some sort of counselling for it.  “But we should put this on the back burner for now until we figure out who put the explosives in the Palace with the intent to blow everyone up.”

“Agreed.”  With that single word, Phillip went to remove the regenerator from his leg.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Clint growled.  “You do not get up out of that bed, mister.  You are going to stay right there, get some rest, and let your leg heal.  The last thing you need is to have that leg re-broken because it healed up wrong.”

“Dad’s right,” Nicole spoke up, her face fierce.

“If we have to tie you down,” Nathan threatened, “we will.”

To make it a completely united front, Lisa stepped shoulder-to-shoulder with the twins.  “And we’re not afraid of you.”

Merlin couldn’t help it: he laughed at Phillip’s full-blown pout.  And Charlton looked supremely amused by what was going on by the bed.

But the mood was broken when the door opened, revealing Arthur.  He took one look at the scene before him, and a smirk decorated his face.  “Are you actually trying to get up out of bed, Uncle Phillip?”

“Not now,” the immortal groused, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Glad to hear it.”  Then, Arthur went solemn.  “We have a lead, thanks to Aunt Toshiko.”

 

 


	31. Chapter 31

 

**_3 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Armstrong Dome_ **

**_The Moon_ **

****

Casey felt frustrated.

“Just who is Patrick Everett Delaware, anyway?” she demanded.

She and Walsh had finished up their interrogation of Samuel Salem Martin.  The HYDRA goon had claimed not to know anything else, not even who’d contacted him to set her on Casey’s trail.  It had all been by dead drop, according to the man, which she felt was all too paranoid and perfectly credible.

But this whole reincarnation thing…and she’d been a man in a previous life?

She supposed it made about as much sense as anything else that had happened to her and Walsh lately.

Jones was chewing his lip in obvious distress.  They were all seated in the precinct breakroom, sipping coffee that had made all four dragons wince slightly when they’d taken their first sip.  Alright, Casey admitted to herself that the coffee was pretty bad, but when you have to work a 12-hour shift it was the caffeine that you needed, and taste didn’t factor much into it.

Walsh’s coffee was better, but then she didn’t need high expectations for that to be true.

“Tad?” Anwyn asked, resting a hand on his arm. 

With a shudder, Jones sighed.  “Patrick was…he was a member of our old Torchwood team, several years after Jack and I originally took over.  He was…a good friend.  I can certainly understand why HYDRA would be afraid we’d awaken him…which we would never do, so please be assured of that, Detective Shraeger.  Your life is your own, and we would never take that away from you.”

She believed him, and not just because he looked so upset.  “You’d be using this crystal thing, right?”

“Well, we _wouldn’t_ use it. But we confiscated it from a HYDRA base we raided several days ago.  It was used to locate previous reincarnations and awaken those old memories.  HYDRA must be afraid we’d use it to bring out allies, now that we have it.  Which would be farthest from the truth.  There’s no way we’d do anything like that to _anyone_ , no matter how much we wished to see our friends and family again.”

“If HYDRA knows where members of your old team were,” Walsh pointed out, “what’s to stop them from attempting to kill them as well?”

“Nothing at all,” Jones admitted.  “And we’d never know who they are, because we’re not actually sure how to use the crystal, for one; and for another, we wouldn’t use it anyway, at least not in that way.  Like I said, we have no desire at all to do that to anyone.”

Which was what made Casey respect him even more.  This ancient being would never stoop to using HYDRA’s methods.  He and his entire family were definitely the good guys, not wanting to drag anyone else into their war.

Yes, she and Walsh were involved now, but Casey was beginning to suspect that neither Harkness nor Jones had expected them to actually _find_ anything.

That notion made her want to gloat a little, just because they’d done what had been thought impossible.

“And what way would you use it?” Walsh enquired.

“We’re hoping it can be used to find those people HYDRA has already used it on.  If we can track them down that way, then we can finally cut off all of HYDRA’s heads at once.”

Casey nodded.  If they did have a way of locating those reincarnations that it had already awakened, that would be an advantage that they couldn’t give up.  HYDRA needed to be stopped, once and for all.

“The thing is, HYDRA could kill each and every one of those people they’d found, and we’d never know it.  Sighing, Jones stood up from the table they were all seated around.  “I need to head out, to let the clan know this newest wrinkle.”

The three Jones ladies stood as well, Robyn and Alyce hugging their father and sister.  “Take care, you two,” Jones murmured. 

“We will, Tad,” Alyce assured him.

Walsh looked confused, and Casey realised he must not have heard Jones tell her that the two would be staying behind. 

Jones noticed, and explained. “Alyce and Robyn are going to keep an eye out for more strikes against your partner or yourself, Detective Walsh.”

Her partner was somewhat offended, and Casey could understand.  Walsh was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.

The dragon gave him an understanding smile.  “It’s not that we don’t trust either of you to handle yourselves, as Detective Shraeger has more than ably proven, she’s entirely capable.  No, my daughters will be able to take action according to dragon law, and can do things that you and your partner can’t, because of the constraints of Imperial law.  They’ll only step in if they have to, I promise you that.”

That had Walsh nodding. “As long as they don’t interfere with any of our ongoing investigations.”

“We won’t,” Alyce swore.  “We’re only here to watch out for HYDRA.”

Robyn nodded in agreement.  “It might be that they won’t make any other moves against you, now that their assassin has failed.  But we can’t take that chance, especially since we now know the reason for it.”

“We’re actually hoping that, if they do, either Robyn or I can follow them back to wherever they came from,” Alyce added.  “Sure, the one that Detective Shraeger took into custody proved to be pretty much a dead end, but who knows?” She shrugged.  “We might get lucky.”

Casey didn’t know what sort of experience either of them had at tailing a suspect; Alyce, especially, with that easily recognisable pink coat she was wearing, but maybe they knew more that she could tell just from outside appearances.  Certainly, Jones wouldn’t be trusting them with this if they were utterly incompetent.

“Anwyn and I are heading home, hopefully to figure out another line of enquiry.  We’ll keep in touch.”  Jones held out his hand to each of them, and Casey took it, still surprised at just how warm his grasp was.  But, didn’t dragons breathe fire?  Maybe that was why his skin was that hot…

“Thanks once again for letting us observe,” Captain Harkness-Jones added, offering her own hand.  And yes, it was just as warm as her father’s. 

“Not a problem,” Walsh said.  “We never would have figured out that whole reincarnation thing without you.”

They said their farewells, and Jones and his eldest daughter left the precinct.

“And we’ll leave you both to your work,” Alyce said.  “Robyn and I will meet you at the end of your shift. We’ll be across the street at _Star Teas_ so we won’t get in your way.”

“Thanks for that,” Casey replied.  “We’ll stop over on the way out.”

With that, both young women were also gone, leaving Casey alone with her partner once more.

She really didn’t know how she felt about being a reincarnation of one of Jones’ old team members, let alone a man.  Casey was still fighting with the notion, because on the outside it seemed really absurd.  If it had been last week, she would have scoffed at the whole thing.

But, this case had gone into the weird almost from the moment they’d been despatched out.  She’d seen more strangeness in the last couple of days than she had in the entirety of her life, and was still trying to deal with that on top of this new information, that she’d been someone completely different at one point, and that she’d almost been killed over something that was so wholly out of her control that it just didn’t seem fair.

“You okay, partner?” Walsh asked solicitously.  His eyes were examining her as if he could somehow scan her brain, which she knew damned well he couldn’t.  Or so he said.

“Still trying to wrap my mind around all of this.”

“I got the feeling there was a lot more to who this Delaware person was than what Jones was saying.  Not that he’d taken a lot of time to really explain.”

Yes, Casey had gotten that impression as well.  A part of her wanted to go back to being completely ignorant of past lives; however, the part of her that made her an excellent cop really wanted to know just who she’d once been, and why it had affected Jones the way it had.  The dragon had seemed…well, almost as if he was mourning all over again.  She was understandably curious to know about the dead man that had an ancient being look as if someone had stabbed him in the heart.

“It’s not like we can actually go and look.”  So much of Torchwood’s history was redacted, but that only made sense.  A lot of what they’d done had been behind-the-scenes, and despite the Institute being so well known now much of those earlier missions still weren’t readily available or easy to find.

Walsh got that expression on his face when he had an idea that was a really good one, or extremely foolhardy and was liable to get her killed.  “Well, there _is_ an entire section of the British Museum dedicated to Torchwood’s history…”

The sly grin that curled Casey’s lips wasn’t something she could hold back.  “And tomorrow is our day off…”

“Then, maybe a field trip to Earth is in order…think we can talk our new bodyguards into it?”

“I don’t think it’ll take all that much convincing.  They seemed about as curious about it as we were.”

“Jones seems like the sort of person to tell stories to his kids.  Maybe he even mentioned Delaware to them and they’d be willing to share.”

Oh, there was a reason Casey loved being partnered with Jason Walsh.  “You have a point.  Maybe we should broach the subject after shift tonight.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea.”

 

 


	32. Chapter 32

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Trafusis_ **

****

Jack headed down the narrow stairs of Doc B’s house, toward the kitchen where he could smell breakfast cooking.

He hadn’t slept the night before.  He could have made the excuse that he was too keyed up, and that his immortality made it so he really didn’t need to sleep all that much.  Or, he just wasn’t used to sleeping in a normal bed, after having rested in a dragon’s nest for so long.

But truthfully, it was because he’d been alone for the first time in perhaps centuries.

He was used to sleeping next to his dragon, either in his own human form or the dragon one he could take while in the valley that was their home.  Jack was lonely, and cold, and sleep simply hadn’t come to him last night.

It also didn’t help that his mind kept racing a mile a minute, turning over recent events and attempting to fit them into place.  He had no idea what was going on outside of Trafusis, either; Banner had been correct in that there wasn’t a comm system in the house that could transmit off-planet.  The scientist had arranged for them to have access to one sometime today, but until then Jack was cut off from his family.

He’d decided to go back to the TARDIS if they hadn’t been able to use a comm.  The time machine had technology that was higher tech and could be used to contact home, and Throneworld, because he really wanted to find out what had been going on.  He wanted to know how Phillip was, and to check in on his mate, who’d been busily investigating the Dragon Slayer. 

He wanted to know if his mate was alright.

Jack was, in fact, terrified for Ianto.  Not so much his physical safety; he had Anwyn, Robyn, and Alyce with him, and his three daughters were pretty formidable, and also his dragon could certainly take care of himself physically.  No, the immortal was worried about his mate’s mental state, after everything that had occurred, with Sabrina’s death, the attacks on Rowena, Henry, and Skylar and discovering that the man responsible was one of the same knights who had murdered Ianto’s birth family only brought back by HYDRA and set on their path once more.

So, all night long he’d stood at the window in the room he’d been given, staring out into the dingy street, his thoughts millions of miles away with the dragon he’d given his eternity to.

The city had been active even during the late hours.  There were no lights out on the street, but Jack could still make out the people who’d made this run-down section of the capitol their home, going about whatever business had them out at all hours. 

Some of them were obviously prostitutes, plying their wares to whoever had the credits to buy.  Others were homeless, wandering aimlessly for the next place to sleep. 

Then there were the ones he guessed were part of the seedy underside, and it made him reflect that that could have been him, after he’d left the Time Agency, if he hadn’t been as good a conman as he’d turned out to be.  Or, if he hadn’t run into the Doctor and Rose, during the Blitz, when he’d almost destroyed the planet because he hadn’t been aware of what he’d been dealing with when he’d tried to pass off a Chula ambulance as a warship.

Daylight had eventually brightened the street below, and the smell of something cooking had roused him out of his overly dark thoughts.  Jack had gathered up his greatcoat, slipping it onto his shoulders, missing the press of warm, firm hands settling it into its proper place. 

He followed his nose down the stairs and back toward the kitchen he’d seen when they’d arrived yesterday.  Once there, he had to smile as his daughter, Cadi, stood over a rickety-looking stove, mixing eggs and various vegetables into a large skillet that was dented on one side.  Adrastea was helping, standing at the counter, using a knife to chop up some fruit, her blue hair pulled back in a sloppy tail. 

Jack leaned against the door jamb, crossing his arms, and watched the pair of them making breakfast.  Not for the first time did the immortal wonder why Cadi had never cleared up her affairs enough to settle down for a bit and to raise one of the orphan dragons that were still in their eggs, currently being preserved in the preservation vault back home.  She certainly was good with kids, he’d seen it for himself, and the way she was directing Adrastea only made it more apparent. 

His heart hurt for her, just a little.  Of all of their children, Cadi had always seemed the most self-sufficient, but also the most solitary.  Back when she was a child, she’d adored Anwyn, travelling with her many times on missions that her older sister would accept every once in a while.  Jack figured that was when she’d gained her love for space, but he would never have suspected that she’d decide to go at it alone, not even inviting her own twin to go with her.

But then, Rowena had always been more of a homebody, settling in one place for long periods of time.  It had been almost two millennia since she’d moved to the Moon and had stayed there ever since.  She’d loved her position at Luna University, and even though she’d claimed she was fine with quitting her job, Jack knew that wasn’t true, that his child would miss academia and the certainty of living in one place.

Still, at least Rowena had Henry, and their own ‘twins’, even though Abraham and Jocelyn were as different as the air and the ground.  Cadi didn’t have anyone; yes, she’d had John Hart for a while, but John hadn’t been immortal, and there hadn’t been any sign of him reincarnating and remembering who he was.  Jack believed that was because John and Cadi hadn’t been mates…hells, they hadn’t even loved each other.  What they’d had had been fun and sex and adventure, nothing more. 

Cadi was the eldest of his children without a mate.  She’d never really shown any inclination to find one.  Jack wasn’t about to lecture her about it, although he wished more than anything that could have what he and her Tad had: a mate to walk beside and children to love.

Well, maybe one day.

“Are you going to just stand there, Dad?” Cadi enquired without looking up from what she was doing.  “Or do you want to help?”

Jack chuckled.  “What do you need me to do, sweetheart?”

“I made some coffee, and there’s juice and milk in the refrigerator.  Make yourself useful and get it out.  There are cups in the cabinet over Adrastea’s head, and the table is through there.”  She pointed the spatula toward an entryway leading into another room, and through it the immortal could see a large table, chairs pulled up to it neatly.  “Bruce is in his office, and the Doctor is still in his room.  If you could then call people in for breakfast while Adrastea and I finish up…”

“Your wish is my command.”  He gave her a salute that had the teenager laughing as she piled sliced fruit up into a large bowl, and then he reached over Adrastea’s head for the cups.

 

**********

 

“I think I might have something for you,” Banner said over breakfast.

Jack sat up a little straighter, settling his fork down on his plate gently, although it clinked a little against the ancient china at the sudden unsteadiness of his hands.  “What did you hear?” he asked harshly, not bothering to apologise for how borderline rude his demand was.

Banner didn’t seem to take offence at all.  “One of my contacts at the secondary spaceport is expecting a ship in later today.  He didn’t know yet what dock they’d be assigned to, but that particular port isn’t all that large, so it should be fairly simple to locate them.”

That was the first good lead they’d had on the elusive privateers, and Jack couldn’t help but think it was a good sign.

“You’ll also be expected a JoJo’s this morning to use the comm there,” Banner continued. “Cadi, you remember where JoJo’s is, correct?”

Jack’s daughter nodded.  “I do.”  She turned to Jack.  “We can trust JoJo, Dad.  He’s with the black market here, but he only deals in non-lethal goods.  I’ve taken orders for him before.”

That was enough for Jack.  He nodded, looking forward to reconnecting with Ianto and the rest of the family again.  He was craving news as if it was some sort of drug, and he needed his next fix.  He loathed being out of contact like this, but this time it was unavoidable.  The trail had led here, and they needed to follow up on it.

Still, it would be good to see his mate again, if Ianto was back in Ddraig Llyn by now.

“Do you have any idea what’s bringing G and H here?” the Doctor asked around a mouthful of egg.

“All I’ve been able to find out is that they have some sort of contract with one of the underground traders,” Banner admitted.  “It could be anything.  Those two have a really bad reputation, and what’s odd is that they didn’t used to be that way.  Yes, they did a lot of smuggling things, like guns and such, but now they’ve gotten into slavery.  Unfortunately, there’s a thriving slave trade on Trafusis, and the reputable businesses and the government claim to be cracking down, but they really just turn their backs on it and ignore it all.  Rumour has it that certain millionaires on the planet get kickbacks from the slave trade.  As long as they pay lip service to wiping it out, it keeps ImpSec away.”

“Sounds like something the Empress might want to know,” Jack commented darkly.  He despised the slave trade; it had been slavers who’d stolen his brother, Gray, away, and had driven him mad.  Someday he hoped to see Gray again, but at the moment he was still in the Lost Lands, being healed by the Fae.

He still had some doubts about his mother’s decision to let Jasmine take Gray, but it had also been a relief…something that he would always feel guilty for.

“I’m sure if you brought it to her attention, Jack, that something might actually be done,” Banner said.  “One of the things that Brina was once sent here for was to discover what she could about the trade but, as good as she was, for some reason she couldn’t get a foot in the door, although there were some arrests.  I know she reported back to Director Coulson, and knowing him as I do he would have reported to the Empress about it.”

“He would have,” Jack agreed, “and I’m sure she would have sent someone from ImpSec in undercover.  Who knows…there might be an Imperial agent out there somewhere, trying to get evidence in order to bring the slave trade down.”

“Every society has its dark underside,” the Doctor put in.  “You try to bring the light in to dispel it, but it inevitably crops up somewhere else.”  He leaned back in his chair, high forehead creased in thought.  “Maybe we might be able to do something about it, once this mess with HYDRA’s cleared up…”  His sharp green eyes went to Banner, scrutinising him.  “Doctor Banner, would you object to seeing if you could get as much information as you can?  I think, after our family business is done, it’s time for the Oncoming Storm to make a scene.”

Jack was pleased with that.  The Doctor couldn’t stand that sort of thing, and the immortal knew that his Time Lord friend would clean house, most likely making as much of a mess as possible in the effort.

“Certainly, Doctor.  That would be a pleasure.”  Banner’s smile turned sharp. 

“I’m also certain Phillip would want to help,” the Doctor added.  “Give that man another thousand years and he’ll be giving me a run for my money in the Oncoming Storm department.”

The Doctor sounded inordinately proud of that fact, and once again Jack wondered at the friendship that had grown between his son-by-mating and the last of the Time Lords.  But then, going through something as traumatic as they had was bound to bring people together.

It tied the Doctor to their clan in yet another way, which made Jack happy.  They might not have always gotten along, but the immortal would always have a soft spot for the Doctor despite everything, and wanted to give him a sense of stability as well as family.

Banner looked bemused as Cadi laughed.  “I’m not so sure Phillip would want the job,” she chuckled.  “He seems to be perfectly fine doing his own thing.”

“Well,” Banner said, “after his display on Throneworld he won’t be able to go back to the shadows, as I know he liked.  The Empress made it perfectly clear that he’d been the one to save them.”

That was true.  Phillip had always enjoyed being the power behind the throne, as it were.  However, he’d taken a big step when he accepted the position as Director of Torchwood, and this would solidify his new place on the stage of Imperial events.  Phillip would hate it, but there was nothing for it now.

Honestly, Jack was more concerned about Phillip’s wellbeing, physically and mentally, than whether or not he was going to hate the new attention he would no doubt receive.

“More like the Oncoming Ice Storm,” Cadi quipped, causing the Doctor to bark out a laugh.

Adrastea looked confused, and Jack couldn’t blame her.  Banner, not so much, but then the Doctor did have a certain reputation within the circles that he travelled, so perhaps he’d heard that title before.

Jack simply smirked, rolling his eyes.  In his heart of hearts though, he was glad to hear his child making jokes.  She was recovering, albeit slowly, and the immortal was so very happy to hear it.

Cadi would get better.  They all would.  It would just take time.

 

 


	33. Chapter 33

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Imperial Throneworld_ **

****

Phillip was on his feet, despite Clint growling at him to take it easy.

He was only glad that his children weren’t there at the time to back their birth father up.

Honestly, the bone regenerator had done an excellent job on his broken leg.  There was a little soreness, but the immortal knew his own healing abilities, and was certain that would be gone by midday.  He pointed that out to his mate, even as he was putting on his old, comfortable boots and sliding off the medical bed where he’d spent last night, sleeping the deep sleep of the exhausted.

His magic wasn’t quite up to full strength yet, although he couldn’t really say what that was any longer.  After all, he’d held an entire tower up for several hours; he’d only slipped up enough to get his leg broken, which then of course had shattered the last of that control. 

Merlin had already threatened him with re-testing.  Phillip wasn’t looking forward to it.

“You know I can’t stay in bed all day,” he pointed out to his mate.  “There’s too much to do.  Plus, I feel fine, Clint. I swear.”

Clint huffed, rolling his eyes.  “You’d say you were fine even if you were missing a limb…oh wait, you have!”

Phillip flinched a little at that.  One of the things he _did_ remember quite vividly, even after all these centuries, was that time his hand had been cut off, in order to save his life when he’d touched a tainted Terrigen crystal.  Looking back on it, he had to wonder if he really would have died, knowing what he did now about the GH325 properties that had extended his life so very long, but at the time no one had known about that bit.

“This is different.  This was just a broken leg.  Besides, you heard the medic: the bones are repaired.  She cleared me to leave.”

His mate sighed.  “You’re right.  I just hate to see you hurt.  Don’t blame me for wanting to coddle you a little.” He moved forward, wrapping his arms around Phillip’s waist, holding him close and burying his face in the immortal’s neck.  “I’ve almost lost you twice now.  Three, if you count being stranded back in the 21st century, even though we weren’t mates at the time.  Just…give me this, okay?”

There was no way Phillip could resist that particular tone, and he echoed Clint’s sigh, embracing him right back.  The unmistakable scent of his mate’s unique pheromones settled around him, overtones of musk and fire and the indescribable subtleness of clean scales and he breathed it in as it was the sweetest perfume. 

And, to Phillip, it was.

Clint’s warmth felt wonderful against his own, slightly chilly, flesh.  Phillip’s magic always reacted around his mate, as if it knew just how much the dragon meant to him, and it was as protective of him as Phillip was consciously.  Now, though, it felt a little different; almost as if it was a living thing, and that Clint was just as precious to it as any hoard.  Instinctively, the immortal realised that his magic would always go to his mate’s defence, no matter what.

It made Phillip, for the very first time, glad that Loki had somehow passed the ice magic onto him.  And he would never had believed that possible.

A polite throat clearing had them pulling apart reluctantly.  Arthur stood at the door, leaning on the jamb, hand resting lightly on Excalibur’s pommel, an indulgent expression on his handsome features.  “Are you both done?” he drawled.

Phillip rolled his eyes.  “I suppose that interruption could have been worse.”

“Yeah,” Clint added, “it could have been either Nathan or Nicole, pretending to be grossed out by their dads being affectionate.”

That got him a chuckle from Arthur.  “Rory is the exact same way with me and Merlin.”

“Is there any news?” Phillip asked his nephew.

It had been late yesterday when they’d received the information from Toshiko, about what Stark had been able to dig up about Councillor Petra Thorne and Thorne Consolidated’s connection to Persephone Corporation and Uther Pendragon’s doomsday weapon project.  Steve had immediately sent someone to speak to the Councillor, but Thorne had disappeared, vanishing into the confusion after the attack. 

However, the entire planet had been locked down from the moment the bomb went off at the Palace, so there was still a very good chance that Thorne was still planetside.  Steve had made certain that there were alerts out all over Throneworld, as well as reporting to Imperial Security to be on the lookout for the wayward Councillor. 

Arthur nodded, grinning sharply.  “We found her.  She was trying to get offworld in a disguise that might have worked if not for the forged documents she attempted to use.  I suspect they were given to her by HYDRA, and weren’t meant to hold up to scrutiny if she needed to use them.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Phillip admitted.   HYDRA would have set the Councillor up for failure to equal any sort of failure she’d had.  “Thorne’s plan didn’t succeed, and we’ve all witnessed HYDRA abandon those who’ve disappointed them.”

“Any sign of poison or suicide devices on her?” Clint asked.

“None.  If she was given that option, she chose not to take it.”

That very act spoke to Phillip, saying that Thorne really hadn’t expected to get caught.  She’d relied on the false documents, without checking them first to see if they would hold up to scrutiny.  That either made her supremely confident or overly naïve.  He only hoped it wasn’t like Lucy Cole’s confidence: based in sheer madness.

“Steve sent me to fetch you for the interrogation.  None of us think you’d want to sit it out.”

“And you would all be correct.”  There was no way Phillip was going to miss this.

“Then let’s go.”

Arthur led the way, Phillip and Clint just behind.  His mate’s warm fingers entwined about Phillip’s own, and he revelled in the touch, not caring that anyone saw the Director of Torchwood being affectionate with the dragon he considered his soulmate.

The ice mage knew where they would have taken Councillor Thorne, but he was content to let Arthur go first.  The Playground had its own set of secure cells, on the lowermost level of the compound; they were reminiscent of the vaults that had once been underground at the original Playground, with their force barriers and chairs just beyond the forcefield, letting the interrogator be as comfortable as possible while facing the prisoner in the cell beyond.  Each cell had a cot, a toilet, and a tiny sonic sink, and that was about it, as they were as spartan as possible.  They’d been built for security, not comfort.

However, they didn’t actually make it to the subterranean cell.

Instead, they were accosted by Councillor Benjamin Cole, his face florid and belligerent as he approached, and Phillip could just hear Clint sigh as the man got closer.

“I demand you release Councillor Thorne immediately,” he said imperiously, as if he had any real power there, in the heart of the Shieldsman’s stronghold.

Arthur looked ready to respond, but Phillip rested his hand on his nephew’s arm and took a step forward.  “No.”

Cole’s face got redder, if that was possible.  “How dare you – “

“No,” the immortal repeated, “how dare _you_ to come into this building and attempt to order anyone within it around.  This isn’t your place, Councillor Cole, so I suggest you leave.”

They were gathering quite an audience.  Phillip even saw Second Fosse just down the hall, Valentina’s expression amused. 

He hoped he was putting on a good show for all the witnesses. 

Not that he really wanted to, but if that was what Cole wanted…

“Torchwood isn’t in control here,” Cole spluttered indignantly.

“And neither are you,” the ice mage pointed out calmly.  “This is the Playground, and only the Grand Master is in command here.  But what you haven’t taken into consideration is that I was once the Grand Master of the Shieldsmen…I was the one who built up this place.  I designed the Playground and wrote the charter the Shieldsmen follow to this day.  I am not here because of Torchwood, Councillor…I am here because I am the Grand Master _in_ _perpetuity_ , and I think you’ll find I can do whatever I want here.  I can have you escorted out if I chose to.”

He’d once tried to turn down the _in_ _perpetuity_ part, but the former Empress, Juliana, hadn’t had any of that sort of nonsense.  But then, he’d once been her near-constant companion, back when he’d been asked by her father to take on the task of keeping the Royal Heir out of trouble.  It had been an honour to do so, and of course he’d known just how headstrong Juliana had been…much like her daughter, Danielle, was now.

Cole took a step toward Phillip.  None of the audience moved, not even Clint, but there was suddenly such an air of expectant menace that the immortal was surprised that it didn’t seem to register to the enraged Councillor. 

The man opened his mouth to say something that, chances were, was going to be an attempt at scathing, but Phillip spoke first.  “Petra Thorne is being held on suspicion of complicity with a terrorist organisation and for attempting to commit regicide and murder.  If she is found guilty, the death penalty for attacking the Imperial family is still on the books.  She will not be released.  Do I make myself clear?”

“This is what you want!” Cole spat angrily.  “You want to make the Throne indebted to Torchwood, so you trump up these ridiculous charges against an honoured Councillor in order to ingratiate yourself to Her Imperial Majesty!  You probably set that bomb yourself in order to make yourself into some sort of hero!”

It was what Brant Charlton had suspected.  That HYDRA would have attempted to discredit Phillip by framing him in the bombing.  It made him wonder if he’d been a bit wrong about Cole not being involved with HYDRA; perhaps he was, after all. 

The accusation caused a ripple of horrified sound to echo down the corridor.  In that moment Cole seemed to notice they had an audience; he stood up straight, as if he was proud of the attention they were getting, and was playing to it.

Phillip felt his magic stir restlessly under his skin.  Arthur growled softly; however, Clint was silent which, in the immortal’s knowledge of his mate, meant that he was at his most dangerous.  He was really glad that Clint didn’t have his bow, because Cole would have most likely ended up with an arrow in his eye.

Still, no one moved.  Everyone in that hallway was aware that this was Phillip’s fight, and he was more than willing to take up the conflict.

“Councillor Cole,” he said quietly, letting the barest flicker of magic taint his eyes, “it sounds as if you know a bit more about this investigation than you should.”

That comment had Cole rearing back, as if Phillip had just slapped him.  “You accuse – “

“I’m doing no such thing.  However, if you _are_ somehow involved in this plot, then you need to take a few things into consideration.  The main one being that this is HYDRA.  This is the group that took your only child and turned her into a genocidal maniac willing to torture and murder _anyone_ to gain her objective, which was the resurrection of one of the vilest beings ever to have been birthed into this universe.  They changed your Lucy, Councillor.  They corrupted a talented, promising young woman and transformed her into their tool, and when she failed they let her be imprisoned in Stormcage for the rest of her life and to have her magic stripped from her.  Chances are, they would have killed her just as easily as they killed all of those innocents on Euros, and would have done the same to others on countless worlds.  They were the ones who were attempting to create a doomsday weapon that would have caused the deaths of thousands, if not millions, of other innocents.

“But the thing is, Councillor…Benjamin,” and the use of the man’s given name had Cole flinching, “I’m not entirely certain you care all that much about Lucy.  Have you been to visit her? Have you seen her madness with your own eyes?  Or is your outrage due to the loss of prestige that having a powerful child stripped of her magic and imprisoned, and not because you love your daughter?  You’ve always hated Torchwood, even back before all this occurred, so I really can’t be sure if what happened to Lucy is simply an opportunity to move against me and mine, and not because you feel any sort of filial devotion toward her.

“You need to consider your actions and words, Benjamin.  Consider them carefully, before it’s far too late to do anything to save yourself.  As it’s far too late to save poor Lucy.”

With that final statement, Phillip let his eyes flicker away from the now pale face in front of him.  “Second Fosse, will you make certain Councillor Cole is escorted off the premises?”

Valentina saluted him smartly.  “Of course, Grand Master Pendragon,” she said, using the alias that Phillip had gone under for so long; it was slightly jarring to hear it once more, so settled was he back into being Phillip Coulson. She stepped up beside Cole.  “Councillor, if you’ll please follow me…”

Cole really didn’t have much of a choice.  He was surrounded by people who didn’t much like him, and he’d also been handed a few home truths that Phillip hoped the man would seriously consider. 

And so, Benjamin Cole followed Valentina quietly, more in shock than anything else, and the crowd that had gathered parted for them, and as they passed the gathered Shieldsmen and support personnel let out a shout of support, calling Phillip’s name in a loud acclamation that said more than any other words could.

He might have given up his post here for the Directorship of Torchwood, but these were still very much his people, even so long after the fact. 

“Well done, Grand Master,” Steve’s murmured words said behind him.    

Phillip turned.  His former protégé was standing a few feet away, his expression impressed. 

“I do hope you know I would never usurp your authority,” he reassured the current Grand Master.

Steve gave him a reassuring smile.  “I know you wouldn’t.  Doesn’t make that speech any less impressive, Phillip.”

“I am so turned on right now,” Clint whispered. 

That comment had Phillip rolling his eyes fondly.  “Later.”

“I’m going to remember that, you know.”

“I’m counting on it.”

Arthur looked fondly annoyed at the banter.  “I’m sorry, but ‘Grand Master’ is even more pretentious than ‘Once and Future King’.”

“No, it’s not,” Steve chuckled.

“It’s really not,” Phillip agreed.

 

 


	34. Chapter 34

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Ddraig Llyn_ **

****

Ianto couldn’t help the smile as his mate’s face appeared on the comm screen in the lounge. 

Jack looked much better than he had been; he’d regained a lot of his colour, and he was now back to wearing his signature greatcoat.  He, too, was smiling as he met the dragon’s gaze, equally as glad to see him as Ianto was Jack.

“I miss you,” was the first thing he said, not caring that he wasn’t alone.  Jack wasn’t either; Cadi was with him.  The Doctor wasn’t, however, and Ianto wondered just what the Time Lord was up to.

Luckily for them, Anwyn was quiet about Ianto’s need for sappiness upon seeing his mate; she was the only one of the many children currently in the house, except for Skylar who was resting up in his room.  The others were spread out around Ddraig Llyn, or on Throneworld, helping with the clean-up.  Daisy, however, who was currently being held by her doting aunt, made excited noises as soon as she saw Jack and Cadi on the screen.

 _“I miss you, too.”_ Then his waggled his fingers at the baby, who was happily calling out for her Gada.  _“And how’s my favourite girl?”_ he practically cooed.

“I’ll try not to take that personally,” Anwyn said dryly as she stepped forward to stand next to Ianto.

 _“And how do you know I didn’t mean you?”_ Jack asked petulantly as Cadi stifled a laugh.

“Because your eyes were on Daisy when you said it?” their eldest daughter answered primly.

Daisy twisted in Anwyn’s arms so all four legs were wiggling in the air, looking at the screen upside down, tongue lolling.  She was adorable, and Jack’s eyes were absolutely besotted.  Ianto wondered how much convincing he’d need to talk Jack into having another one of their own after everything was over, or opening one of the many eggs that were stored in the vault, the door of which was just at the periphery of his vision.

“I’m glad you called,” the dragon began, “and not just because I missed you.”

 _“Is it about what happened on Throneworld?”_ Cadi demanded.  _“We caught the news.  Is Phillip alright?”_

“Yes, he’s fine.”  Ianto went on to tell them about what had occurred, and then explained about Petra Thorne, the bits that Toshiko had managed to discover from Stark, the living computer of Stark’s World. And, yes, it shouldn’t have surprised him that Toshiko and Stark had known about each other, but it had.  “Arthur told me that the Shieldsmen managed to capture her, and they were going to be questioning her this morning.”

Jack nodded throughout the dragon’s recital.  _“So, we should be expecting Imperial investigators here on Trafusis?”_

“Yes, as well as representatives from the Shieldsmen, the Adjudication Guild, and Torchwood.  Including Alun, I might add, who managed to finagle his way onto the team of Adjudicators.  Melinda is sending along Fitz and Jemma to help in going through Thorne’s business holdings, and Danielle Requested – with a capital R – that Merlin accompany them, in case a Master Wizard was needed.  From what Arthur said, Merlin argued with her, saying that he believed HYDRA didn’t have access to that sort of higher difficulty magic anymore, now that Lucy was in custody, but Her Imperial Majesty commented that they had no real idea what Lucy had gotten up to when she was free.”

 _“She has a point,”_ Jack laughed, and Ianto knew he was imagining their grandson-by-mating’s pout at the moment.  It was really safe to say that Merlin had inherited _that_ particular expression from his father, and was a weapon in its own right.

 _“I’ll need to let Doc B know, Dad,”_ Cadi said, looking at Jack.  _“Having that many officials on Trafusis is bound to cause some upset in the underground here.”_

 _“Understood.”_ Jack’s eyes met Ianto’s over the connection once more.  _“It seems we have a very old friend here on Trafusis…one we didn’t know was still alive.”_

Ianto was curious; he could readily admit that.  “Another reincarnation?” He wondered who it was, come back this time.  Another member of their team, perhaps?

_“No…someone extremely long-lived.  You may remember him…and his green alter ego.”_

The dragon couldn’t help but smile as he put Jack’s oblique references together.  “How is that possible?” Now this…this was a shock.  As far as Ianto had known, the only immortals out there were the ones who were family members: Jack and Henry, both of whom would always come back no matter what happened to them.  Phillip was as well, but he was more like a dragon, and not really a true immortal, as he could be killed even though it would take a catastrophic amount of damage to do it. 

But, apparently there was someone else out there, someone that Ianto had once known, someone that Ianto had fought beside in his oh-so-short time as an Avenger.

HYDRA knowing that Bruce Banner and the Incredible Hulk were out there, and still alive, was something they couldn’t afford to get out.  It wasn’t that Ianto felt that Banner couldn’t take care of himself; he just didn’t want parts of a planet destroyed because the Hulk got out of control if the newly arisen terrorist organisation went after him; although, to be fair, the scientist may have managed to gain an ‘understanding’ with the Other Guy in the years since Ianto had first met him.  

There was also the nature of how the Hulk came about, and the dragon was very much aware that anything to do with super-soldiers would be of interest to HYDRA, as it had been back in the past.  He still could recall what they’d discovered about the Winter Soldier, and the last thing they would need is for something like that happening again.  It was bad enough they knew about Steve, although they had to know that using him to recreate the Captain America experiments would be a waste of time, since the serum that went through the Rogers line had been weakened over the millennia since Project Rebirth.

And that wasn’t even getting into all that brainwashing they’d managed to get up to.  Ianto was pretty certain that technology could still be put into play.  He was really surprised it hadn’t been, as yet.

 _“He’s a good friend,”_ Cadi added, _“although I didn’t know who he was until Dad and the Doctor met him.”_

 _“He’s not really sure how it’s happened that he’s still alive,”_ Jack put in.  _“Most likely it has to do with how he became…”_

Ianto nodded, understanding what his mate was telling him. 

 _“He’s also a contact of mine,”_ Cadi said, _“and a trusted one. He’ll need to get the word out about Thorne Consolidated.  Maybe he can dig up some dirt on them before the troops descend on the company.”_

“That would be helpful, because I’m certain Petra Thorne is probably deep into other things besides HYDRA.”  It would make sense if she was; there would have been a pattern of behaviour that would have led HYDRA to her.  “What about your own mission?”

_“Today.”_

It was all Jack needed to say.  Ianto understood him perfectly.  “Good hunting.”

His mate’s grin was fierce.  _“As soon as we can we’ll be back home.  I don’t think it will be long.  Our goal is in sight, Ianto…I know it.”_

Somehow, he knew Jack was right.  They’d managed to stop HYDRA in their tracks several times now.  Yes, there was still the Dragon Slayer and other HYDRA operatives out there – John Garrett immediately sprang to mind – but they were slowly cutting off their power base. So many of their plans had been thwarted.

Stopping the resurrection of the Master and removing HYDRA’s one major magical chess piece from the board at the same time.

Destroying the doomsday weapon nanomachines.

Taking back Avalon, and with it the crystal and the meagre magical resource they’d managed to gain after Lucy Cole had been taken out of play, as well as regaining the Master’s ring.

Confiscating the enchanted weapon that had been used to kill and injure the family, from the reincarnated Dragon Slayer.

Saving the Imperial family from being assassinated and shoving Phillip into the limelight, at the same time cementing Torchwood’s power base for at least the next century.

And who knew how many other schemes that had been inadvertently halted by them by taking out several of HYDRA’s heads?

It occurred to Ianto, then, that perhaps the Dragon Slayer being set on their trail had been a distraction.

Only it hadn’t worked out quite the way HYDRA had planned.

 _“You have that look on your face that says you’ve just come up with something profound,”_ Jack said, breaking Ianto out of his thoughts.

Ianto told his mate and his daughter exactly what he’d just now considered.

 _“That does make some sort of sense,”_ Jack mused.  He had that familiar gleam in his eye that said he was trying to fit all that together with the other puzzle pieces that they’d managed to gather.  _“If HYDRA wanted to distract us, it certainly didn’t work.”_

 _“And they didn’t hide their involvement all that well,”_ Cadi pointed out. 

“You’re right,” Ianto allowed.  Still, he couldn’t dismiss the feeling that HYDRA had meant them on the trail of the Dragon Slayer, but that that particular plan had gone awry.

He put that thought away for the moment.  “Something else has happened you should know about.” 

He went on to explain about the attempt on Casey Shraeger’s life, and the reason for it that they managed to get out of the would-be assassin.  Jack’s face paled a little when the dragon gave him the name of the reincarnated soul within the detective, obviously remembering who Patrick was, nodding a little as Ianto shared that he believed the attempt was because HYDRA was afraid they’d be looking for their old allies now that they had the Reincarnation Crystal.  “Not that we would,” he finished, “but I can understand why they’d think so.”

 _“Because it’s what they would do,”_ Jack growled.  _“While I’m glad to know that Patrick is still around in some way, there is no way we’d ever do that to Detective Shraeger.”_

“And of course I’m worried that people out there may die just because they carry around the souls of people we knew.”

 _“It just means we really need to stop HYDRA,”_ Cadi answered fiercely.  _“They don’t care who they hurt…especially if they’re innocent people.  HYDRA’s the ends justify the means, and that’s just wrong.”_

 _“Unless someone can figure out that crystal,”_ Jack added, _“we don’t have any way of finding any of the reincarnations out there…HYDRA or former Torchwood.”_

“After what happened to Merlin when he tried, I’m not sure we want to risk it,” Ianto said slowly, worriedly.  “We have no idea what else it might do.”

 _“Has Nicole shown any sort of ill affects?”_ Jack asked.

“Not that I’ve been able to tell.”

_“We saw her on the newscasts, and she looked fine.”_

“There’s so little we know about Merlin’s Dragonlord abilities,” Ianto admitted. He knew how it had come about, but not so much about the particular Pact that had precipitated it.  “I mean, it could be that he’s always had this new ability but the magic of the crystal just…jumpstarted it.  We already knew he could call the children from magical eggs.”

 _“This is new to both of us,”_ Jack added.  _“We didn’t even know the two of us could_ have _children until Anwyn was conceived, and we both now know the Great Dragons had a hand in that.  We also had no idea about the whole difference about who carries the child.  We’re in completely new territory with our family, and maybe it’s made us a little complacent with what we thought we knew.”_

“You’re not even counting Clint and the twins,” Anwyn pointed out.  “He didn’t even have his dragon form yet when he conceived, and Nathan was born a dragon and Nicole wasn’t.  While, Arthur was born human but he didn’t stay that way for long.  The day he turned ten, he got his dragon form, directly opposite of any other child in this family, and he didn’t have Merlin as his mate yet even though they did knew each other then.  For all we know, this version of Merlin’s Dragonlord magic worked on Arthur back then and he just didn’t realise it.”

She had a valid point.  And then there was little Daisy, born a dragon yet she had a human father…not that Phillip was strictly human any longer.  Still, even though Clint was now full dragon there had been a very real chance that Daisy would have been born human.  It had been the same with Rory, although his part Time Lord physiognomy had made itself known with his two hearts. 

Ianto turned to regard his youngest grandchild.  While they’d been talking, Daisy had done her usual scramble up onto her aunt’s shoulder, where she could best see everything, her tiny claws wound through Anwyn’s brown hair yet not tugging hard enough to make Anwyn uncomfortable.  Her blue eyes were shining as they met his, and she smiled, saying, “Gata!” as she wriggled around enough to almost upset her delicate balance, and Ianto had to reach out and grab her to keep her steady. 

Daisy took the opportunity to switch her perch to him, and she climbed him like a tree to get to Ianto’s own shoulders, where she settled happily, rubbing her cheek against his before curling up, a huge sigh of contentment swelling her little chest, accompanied by a breath of air against his chin.

It was slightly cooler than it really should have been.

He wondered just when she’d start showing her father’s propensity for ice magic.

 _“That is too adorable for words,”_ Jack gushed.  _“What say, when this is all over, we have one of our own?  After all, our youngest are now perfectly capable of handling themselves.”_

Ianto gaped.  Yes, he’d thought he’d bring it up himself, but not in front of two of their daughters.  “Why don’t I carry the next one?”

The smile Jack gave him was incandescent.  _“I thought you’d never ask.”_

“While this is just too cute,” Anwyn drawled, “We have things to do. So do you and Cadi, Dad.”

 _“And again our eldest is right,”_ Jack laughed.

“She gets that from me,” Ianto replied.

A sudden beep interrupted them, and Anwyn was at the viewscreen control, checking to see what was coming through.  “It’s from the Moon,” she said, glancing up at Ianto in surprise.

“It must be either Alyce or Robyn – “

“No, it’s Detective Walsh.”

The dragon frowned, meeting his mate’s eyes over the connection.  _“Maybe they discovered something?”_ Jack suggested.

Yes, that could be it…but Ianto couldn’t so easily dismiss the feeling of dread that just overcame him.  “Put him through, and make certain your Dad and Cadi can listen in.”  If some new information had become available…

The screen split down the centre, revealing Detective Walsh, Robyn by his side, both of them angry in a way that good news would not have made them.  In fact, Robyn was positively livid, her eyes in their dragon aspect, which was an occurrence that hardly ever happened.  Walsh had a scrape along his hairline that had bled a little, but nothing that seemed too serious. 

The pair of them were in a room that resembled a medical bay. 

Ianto’s heart dropped into his shoes.

 _“We have a problem,”_ Walsh said, without preamble, confirming the dragon’s fears.

 

 


	35. Chapter 35

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_London Island_ **

**_Earth_ **

“You know,” Alyce commented, “if I’d known that the stories Dad and Tad had told us when we were growing up really were going to be really important in the future, I would have certainly listened to them a lot more closely.”

Casey laughed.  She couldn’t help it.  It was the tone of Alyce’s words, but it was also Casey’s own memories of childhood, and how she’d never paid that much attention to her own parents when she was just a kid.  If she had…well, her folks were in a completely differently class from Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones, really.  She’d grown up in a society that valued wealth and privilege, and maybe if she _had_ taken to the lessons Mom and Dad had tried to teach her she might never have become a cop.

The four of them stood outside the British Museum, on the well-cultivated lawn.  They’d lined up in a row, each of them staring up at the columns and the large portico and the carvings of people from back in history, most likely famous ones. Casey wished she’d done a little research on the Museum when she’d gone searching for a map of the layout within, wanting to locate the Torchwood Galley easily, but she’d been distracted by Davis, her lover.  And really, he was pretty damned distracting…

He’d noticed that something was wrong, in that Davis way he had.  He hadn’t even been insulted when she’d brushed off his questions, understanding that there were things she couldn’t talk about, but he’d done her best to take her mind off things for a bit. 

Casey really did love that man.

There really hadn’t been a way to explain to him what was going on.  That she’d once been a man named Patrick Delaware, and that a terrorist organisation had sent someone after her to kill her because of it, even though she didn’t remember being this guy.

Honestly, while she was used to getting weird cases, she’d never really been the one in the middle of it all.  She thought she should have been freaking out, but surprisingly wasn’t.

Alyce and Robyn had been quite excited about going along.  This was their family history, after all, and Casey just knew they would have been interested.  Over dinner last night, the two had shared what information they had, but it wasn’t much: mostly stories of adventures the old Torchwood team had had, saving the world and all of that.  A part of Casey almost wished she _could_ recall any of that; it had to have been exciting, being on such a team, meeting new races and stopping alien invasions.  The Torchwood she knew, now, was an intergalactic organisation, completely changed from the tales that the two young dragons had spun for them, the pair excited and proud in equal measure. 

What they’d known about Patrick Delaware had been in connection with those stories, but there had been almost nothing about his personal life.  Which was why the four of them were currently standing outside the one place that had a Torchwood Gallery and would most likely have more information than what had been contained in old bedtime stories.

And, as it was hers and Walsh’s day off, and they weren’t officially investigating anything, they hadn’t had to ask for special clearance to make a day trip down planet.

Casey couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face.  She was excited about this trip back into the past even though, up to this point, it hadn’t been something that had interested her all that much.

“Shall we?” Walsh invited, his own grin a little disappointed.  Oh, it wasn’t because of what they were about to see; no, he’d been a small bit upset that neither dragon had invited them to fly to the Museum from the transmat station.  He’d bragged about going by dragonback the first time, and had been looking forward to it again.

Alyce gave him a brilliant smile, taking the arm he was offering gallantly.  She looked very feminine in the white dress she was wearing, and paired with the long pink coat that seemed to be her trademark it was as if she truly was a happy tourist going on her first museum visit.  “We shall,” she laughed. 

Robyn was shaking her head at her sister, her own expression fond.  Casey had looked for any sort of family resemblance between the two, and yet had failed.  Maybe she took after some other relative, and genetics had had some fun with her features?  Small and blonde, Robyn wasn’t at all like her sister, and even dressed far more sombrely than Alyce did.

And yet, it was obvious the pair were devoted to each other, in that way siblings who grew up close to one another could be.  In a way, Casey wished she’d had the same sort of closeness, but having been an only child that had been impossible.

The Museum was a little busier today than it had been on their first visit, a couple of days ago.  There were quite a few families in the Great Court, where the majority of the shops and food stands were, just past the staircase that ran up to the first floor.  Happy chatter and the occasional baby crying floated toward them, and from somewhere to their right laughter rang out from a group of teenagers, a mixture of human and non-human, who were glancing at the wall-mounted directory of galleries that made up the British Museum.

Casey wondered if Davis would mind taking a day trip here at some point.  She was on a certain sort of business at the moment, even though it wasn’t official, and the detective thought he might actually enjoy it.  He was far more artsy than she ever would be.

“We need Gallery 18,” she directed, pointing toward the left past the group of kids who were now eagerly perusing the map on the wall. 

Together, the four of them headed the way Casey had indicated.  “Dad and Tad helped with the exhibit, I believe,” Alyce said, “so it’s bound to be more historically accurate than, say, the Dragon Gallery.  I’m sure Tad will want to see _that_ one, if just to laugh at how _wrong_ it is.”

“They arrange that one without his input, then?” Walsh enquired as he dodged around a couple who were more intent on each other than they were with the surrounding exhibits.

“Yes,” the young dragon agreed.  “Tad’s tried to combat a lot of the untruths surrounding dragon society, but since this happened with Sabrina and HYDRA he’s had to cancel all of the classes he was teaching on the subject back on Luna.”

Casey was aware, of course, that Jones had been an instructor at Luna University; it was why he’d asked them to call him Professor Jones, instead of the loftier title of Second.  She’d gotten the impression that he was distinctly proud of his academic achievements, which only made sense.

They had to go down Gallery 4 to get to the cross corridor that went to 18.  Gallery 4 was one of the larger ones, lined with the treasures of what had once been Ancient Egypt.  Egypt didn’t actually exist anymore, the Nile having flooded the area during the Great Melt-Off in 2050, the Pyramids now islands amid what had once been the Sahara, but a lot of their history had been saved in museums like this one.

Still, Casey was fascinated by all the history they were passing by.  She’d never really been one for that sort of thing, but now that she was walking through what was considered one of the greatest Earth History museums in the Empire, she found herself wanting to stop and look at everything.

She was definitely going to be talking to Davis about coming back when she had more time, once this case was put to bed.

Once in the connecting corridor, they passed several more galleries, until it dead-ended in Gallery 18.  It was a large area, almost the length of the entire museum, wider than the Egyptian Gallery had been.  There was a small, discreet, plaque on the wall, announcing that this was the official Torchwood Gallery.

Directly across from the entrance was a display that Casey found herself drawn to.  It was a large, clear case, and the device within seemed old, and yet extremely high-tech…well, she wasn’t a scientist, so she could be wrong about that.  It was tall, with a reflective outer casing, and there was an open section that exposed the innards of the machine; wires and a tall, faintly glowing section over a metallic base, with several sections that looked like places were tubing might have once been inserted.  There was a single area near the centre that Casey could swear had a piece missing from it.  

The entire thing was impressive.

“The original Rift Manipulator,” Robyn murmured in awe.  “This was set up in the Old Cardiff Hub, where Dad and Tad had their original team.  It was used to stabilise the Rift there.”  Her hand was trembling slightly as she reached out to touch the case around it.  “It’s like Dad and Tad’s stories come to life.”  She turned her eyes toward her sister, who appeared to be equally in awe.  “I happened to listen to them all, unlike some others I might name.”

Alyce rolled her eyes fondly at her sister.

“The Old Cardiff Rift is still there, isn’t it?” Walsh asked.  “I think I heard it was…”

Alyce nodded.  “It’s monitored from Torchwood Central, here in London, but the actual Hub was flooded out thousands of years ago.  From what we’ve been told, the Rift is still active, and every once in a while London has to send people out to check on spikes that happen at the old site.”

“Our Grandtad Rhys was taken by the Rift back in the 21st century,” Robyn added.  “He was brought here to the future, and he married our Gran, Samara.”

Casey had to wonder what it had been like to have been sucked up by a rift in time and space, and to be deposited in an unknown place, and she shuddered slightly.  Still, it sounded as if at least this time it had ended happily.

In silent agreement, the four of them began to peruse the exhibit.  Intellectually, Casey had been aware that Torchwood had been around for a very long time, but now she was being faced with the reality of it, and for the first time since Director Harkness had offered, she began to actually wonder what a career in Torchwood would be like.  Nothing like what she was seeing within the glass cases and displays, of course; the Institute had outposts all throughout the Twelve Galaxies now, instead of a single base under Old Cardiff.  She found herself in front of an artist’s rendition of the first Hub along with a holographic, 3D display of the old base, and it had taken her breath away.  To have been involved at the beginning, when Earth hadn’t been the fount of the Great Human Empire…she could hardly imagine it. 

And the soul within her, the one HYDRA had wanted to kill her over, had been a part of this beginning. 

Casey was finally beginning to really _believe_ it.

She had to admit, seeing all of this was fascinating.  The history of the Institute was quite a surprise, and Casey wasn’t afraid to admit that she really hadn’t understood the secretive roots of Torchwood, and how it had grown into the enormous and well-respected Institute it was now. 

Still, it wasn’t until deeper into the exhibit that she finally discovered just who Patrick Delaware _was_.

It was Walsh who’d found the display profiling the leaders of Torchwood, the ones responsible for it beginning its expansion back in the 21st century.

Apparently, Patrick Everett Delaware had started out as the Weapons Officer of Torchwood in Old Cardiff, and had ended up as the Institute’s Third-in-Command, leading the London branch of the Institute for decades before retiring.  He’d been married to Alice Harkness, the first daughter of Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones, and had been the nephew of Phillip Coulson, the then-Director of an organisation called SHIELD…the progenitor of the Imperial Shieldsmen.  The same man who now led Torchwood.

“Did they name me after her?” Alyce asked wonderingly, reverently.  “It’s spelled differently, though…”

Casey didn’t answer.  Her attention had been drawn by the old-style photograph of Patrick Delaware, standing with a group of people who were listed as being his Torchwood team.  It was slightly faded, and worn about the edges, but it was still clear to her eyes.

He’d been a tallish man, with a slightly receding hairline and a kind face.  He didn’t look a thing like a badass alien hunter, but then looks could be very deceiving, as she well knew.  In fact, the resemblance between Patrick and the current Torchwood Director was pretty uncanny, and Casey could certainly tell that he was related to Phillip Coulson.

This was the man whose soul she shared. 

She suddenly wanted to know all about him.  What his favourite colour was, what he liked to eat, how he took his coffee.  How much he’d loved his wife, and his children, and how he’d become a part of Torchwood.  If he’d liked to read, and just what he’d done as a Weapons Officer.  What his leadership style had been like, and if he was as good a leader as the exhibit seemed to convey. 

It felt as if she was becoming obsessed with Patrick Delaware.  But then, who could blame her, knowing that he was a part of her, even if she couldn’t remember it?

“Just how many of me are there, anyway?” Walsh groused, and it brought Casey’s mind back to the rest of the photograph.

Then, she laughed.

Standing just down from Patrick – a dark-skinned woman the display claimed was Martha Jones-Milligan, Torchwood London’s Second, separated them – was a man who looked just like her partner, with a quiver over one shoulder and a bow in his hand, grinning widely as he leaned against another man, this one taller, stockier, and wearing dark goggles that obscured his eyes.

Clint Barton.  Weapons and Surveillance Specialist.  Third in Command of Torchwood London.

“That’s Clint,” Robyn answered.  “He reincarnated into our older brother.  He was the first of the old Torchwood to come back and recall his previous life.”

“But it doesn’t mention the Avengers,” Alyce pointed out. 

“He wasn’t a member of the Avengers when this was taken, remember?” her sister replied, “Which was…” she leaned forward to read the notes on the display, “2017.  That was after the all that stuff with the Chitauri and the Cybermen.”

Casey had heard of the Avengers; hells, she’d learned about them in her secondary school history class.  She vaguely remembered a mention of a Clint Barton…although he was really just a footnote, she seemed to recall.  “He was…” she wracked her brain.  “Hawkeye, right?”

“That’s right,” Alyce confirmed.  “He came to Torchwood before he got really famous.”  She glanced at Walsh.  “You know, it really is slightly freaky that you look like him.  Dad calls it spatial genetic multiplicity: there are only so many combinations that genetics can come up with, so there are bound to be duplicates.  You might even be distantly related to the original Clint Barton for all we know.”

Casey bumped her shoulder into her partner’s.  “There you go!  You’re a descendent of some sort of superhero.”

Walsh rolled his eyes at her affectionately.  “And you’re the reincarnation of one.  I’d say that means we were always meant to be partners.”

There was a warmth that bloomed in Casey’s chest at that thought.  “It would have to be destiny then, that I’m the only one who could put up with you,” she couldn’t help but tease.

Her partner shoved her playfully.  “Don’t push it, Shraeger.”

“Let’s look around some more,” Robyn suggested.  “Then maybe we can grab some lunch before we head back home.”

That sounded like an excellent plan, and Casey wasn’t afraid to say so.

 

**********

 

They decided to have lunch at the Museum’s Great Court Restaurant.

It was a themed restaurant, serving all sorts of history-based foods that, in fact, had Casey wanting to scratch her head in confusion.  Sure, it all was familiar on the menu tablet she was given by the smiling waitperson, but when she received her fish and chips it…looked wrong, somehow.  The chips were crunchy, round things that weren’t at all what she’d often order at the Apolo, the restaurant where the majority of the cops at the Second ate their meals; and the fish actually had the tail still attached. 

The entire table erupted into laughter at the expression on her face.

“You look like Tad does whenever he tries to find a Kung Pau Chicken like he used to eat back in the ‘good old days’, and gets stuck with something completely different,” Alyce chortled as she tucked into the enormous plate of food she’d ordered.

Robyn added, “Or Grandtad Rhys that time he wanted Shepherd’s Pie and ended up with that thing with the gora berries.  Goddess, that thing was _nasty_!”

That had Alyce leaning back in her seat, laughing so hard she was wheezing; Casey couldn’t help but join her, just because laughter lit up her face.  Even though she didn’t know the background of the story except for the fact that the girls’ grandfather had been in the Torchwood Gallery, and they’d explained how he’d come into the future.  Alyce had also claimed that it was why their sister, Lisa, had become an Intake Specialist with the Institute, helping those who had come from different times to settle into current timeline, because she’d watched their Granddad deal with a whole new time. 

At that point, Casey felt the need to rib her partner, and so described some of the varied recipes Walsh had adapted using ingredients that should never be used in the combinations that he’d experimented with.  Walsh took the teasing with a smile and an eyeroll, tucking into his own lunch with gusto.  At least his looked normal…but then, this was Earth, and getting fresh, planet-grown beef for the hamburger wasn’t all that difficult.

“How are your meals?” the waitperson suddenly appeared at their table.  They looked a little concerned; however, the group had all been just a bit loud, so that could have been the reason.

Casey debated about sending hers back and ordering something else.  But then, she’d eaten Walsh’s food…could this be any worse?

“Everything is fine,” she assured them, picking up her utensils and starting in on her own plate. 

That reassurance earned her a smile, and then they were off to the next table to check on the other diners.

Alright, the meal might not have looked all that great, but the fish was tender and flaky, and with the addition of a bit of vinegar tasted quite good.  The chips were strange, and she knew she’d never eat them again, but they weren’t too bad, either.

“Detectives Walsh and Shraeger!” a voice exclaimed, sounding somewhat pleased to see them.

That call had the entire table glancing up toward the source of the noise.  Doctor Jeffrey Dorian was approaching, appropriately professorial in his well-worn jacket and trousers, wire-rimmed spectacles perched on his thin nose.

Having seen the Torchwood exhibit, Casey now understood why Jones had seemed a little surprised at the man’s appearance; he’d looked very much like one of the original Cardiff Torchwood team.  What was it that Alyce had said?  Oh yes, spatial genetic multiplicity.

“Doctor Dorian,” Walsh greeted the historian, setting the rest of his burger back onto the plate and giving him a slight smile of his own.

“If I’d known you’d be back this soon,” Dorian said, “I would have arranged a tour!”  His eyes flickered toward Alyce, followed by Robyn, and he gave them each the same welcoming smile he’d bestowed upon Casey and Walsh.  “And who are these delightful young ladies?”

“I’m Alyce, and this is my sister, Robyn,” the young dragon enthused, sounding completely unlike herself, and more like an excited teenager…which, with her baby face, she certainly resembled  “We’re visiting our cousin, Casey, and she and Jason invited us to the museum.  It’s been absolutely fascinating!”

Casey hid her surprise at suddenly gaining a pair of cousins.  She put on her own, pleasant, smile instead.  “Since it’s our day off, we thought we’d come back and see more of the museum than we did last time.”

“Excellent!”  Then Dorian’s expression darkened, turning worried.  “Have you heard anything from Professor Jones?  He didn’t look at all well when you were here last.”

“He’s fine,” Walsh answered.  “He was just a little shocked, that’s all.”

“Not at all surprising.  Oh!  Do you know when the museum might be getting our ring back?”

“The investigation is still ongoing,” Walsh said, “but you can file a claim for when we don’t need it as evidence any longer.”

Dorian nodded.  “I shall do just that.  Well!” He clapped his hands together.  “I do hope you enjoy the rest of your visit.  I should be getting back to work.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Casey said pleasantly.  “Have a good day.”

“Yes, you as well.  Goodbye!”

With that, Dorian was gone, bustling toward the small coffee bar that was on the far wall.  Casey watched as he grabbed a mug and helped himself, and then left the restaurant.

Walsh was looking at the two dragons.  “Cousins?” he asked mildly.

Alyce shrugged.  “I don’t know who he is, and I didn’t want to broadcast the fact that we’re Joneses.  It really wasn’t any of his business.”

“We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves, either,” Robyn added.  “The last thing we really want is anyone to say, ‘Ooo!  Dragons!’ and ask us to change shape because someone’s heard about the Star Dragons but haven’t ever seen one.”  She blushed a little, dropping her eyes to her nearly empty plate.

Casey thought that made sense.  She recalled how people had reacted when Anwyn had flown in, and the crowd that had gathered, and that sort of attention would have been uncomfortable for either of them although she got the feeling it was primarily Robyn who was unsure of herself.  Alyce herself seemed the far more confident of the pair, which Casey could admit to herself was just a little bit sexy.   

Alyce reached over, grasping her sister’s hand.  “I keep telling you, your dragon form is beautiful.”

“I just…” Robyn blushed a little harder.  “Between you and Skylar, you’re giving me quite the ego boost.”

“Good.  And we’ll keep doing that until you get it through that head of yours that you’re awesome, sister.”

Casey wondered what that was about, and had to fight back the detective in her that wanted to ask all sorts of rude questions in order to get to the bottom of those rather cryptic comments.  It was apparent that Walsh was doing the same, but he covered it by picking up the last of his hamburger and shoving it into this mouth.

Honestly, she wondered how Beaumont put up with him and his sometimes lack of manners.

Still, this supported her notion that it must have been some sort of confidence issue, and it seemed as if Alyce was perfectly willing to work on that problem.  She already couldn’t help but notice that the two were practically inseparable, most likely because she thought they might be very close to the same age.  Growing up together would forge that sort of bond, especially if the siblings had been born close together.

They finished their lunch, bypassing dessert out of sheer terror of what they were going to get – not really, but still – and they left the Museum together, feeling as if they’d all just made new friends and glad of the company.

Casey had learned so much, even if there were still rather large spaces in her knowledge of the man who’d once carried her soul.  But, from what she’d seen in the exhibit, Patrick Delaware had been a genuine hero, and she was proud to have had him reincarnate into her.  It gave her a new perspective on her own life, and the desire that had led her to become a police detective despite the wishes of her own family.  It seemed as if there was a very strong sense of justice within her, and she felt she could trace it right back to Patrick Everett Delaware.

“Do we want to do a little sightseeing planetside?” Walsh asked.  “Or do we want to head back up to the Moon?”

Casey honestly wasn’t sure she wanted the day to end yet.  She really had questions about dragon society and Torchwood, and in this moment of peace she felt she might actually get a chance to have her curiosity assuaged.  She’d played with the idea of suggesting the Dragon Gallery, but rejected it, not wanting to accidentally insult their companions.

Although, she thought Walsh’s question had more to do with the fact that he _really_ wanted to ride on dragonback again.  It had been all he could talk about for hours after they’d gotten back to the Second, after they’d talked about what had happened to Professor Jones and the revelations they’d had on the identity of the perpetrator they’d been chasing. 

She also wanted to ask about reincarnation, and what that entailed.  They could easily do that back up at Armstrong Dome as they could in London, so it was really up to anyone else at this point.  Casey really didn’t care, one way or the other, so she said so.

Alyce gave her a smile.  “We’ll be more than happy to answer any of the questions you might have, but if you really wanted to know more about reincarnation, your best bet would be to talk to Clint, or Arthur, or Merlin, or Lisa.  Or, better yet…Jemma or Fitz.”

Both she and Walsh knew who the first four were, but…not the others.  Casey was going to ask but Walsh beat her to it.

“Jemma and Fitz are reincarnations themselves,” Robyn explained.

“But they’re also Lorelans,” Alyce added, “and their people have made quite a study of what they call Reincarnates.”

“They work for Torchwood,” the blonde dragon continued, “and I’m sure we can arrange something.  Although, at the moment they’re going to be heading out on assignment…and I’m sorry, but we can’t say what it is.”

“Mainly because we weren’t really told anything about it,” her sister went on.  “We do know it has to do with the Palace bombing, though.”

“No real clearance, you see,” Robyn finished.  “It’s a Torchwood operation.”

“Now, if it were family business…”

“Which, I’m sorry, it should be…because whoever it was nearly blew up Phillip…”

“I agree with you, but Her Imperial Majesty doesn’t quite see it that way.”

Robyn made a rude noise with her mouth.  “But you know Dad and Tad know what’s going on.”

“Of course they do, and so do Phillip and Arthur, but they do hold a much higher security clearance than we do, and Phillip and Arthur were directly involved, after all.”

“But we’ll be more than willing to introduce you to Jemma and Fitz as soon as things die down.  I’m sure they’ll be more than happy to give you the basics.”

Casey had noticed that about the two of them…the tendency to finish what the other was saying.  It was actually pretty cute, and another sign of just how close the sisters were.  “It’s fine, I’m sure I can wait.”

They’d walked away from the British Museum, and along the road heading toward the transmat terminal without anyone really saying where they were going, so it seemed as if they’d all silently agreed to head back up to the Moon.  A part of Casey was a little disappointed; but at the same time, she was getting a little tired, and she had a lot to process. 

“We should probably call a cab,” Walsh suggested.  “Unless we’re going to walk all the way back to the terminal?”

“Goddess, no,” Casey sighed.  “Cab it is.”

Her partner smirked, as they came to a halt.  They were on a side road, lined with buildings that were tall enough to block out the sun.  It was chillier in the shade, and Casey tucked her chin into the buttoned-up collar of her coat.  Walsh was wearing a coat as well, but he didn’t seem to be as bothered by the cold as she was. 

As for Robyn and Alyce…only Alyce was dressed for the weather, even though her long coat didn’t seem quite heavy enough, especially with that white dress she had on underneath it. Robyn had a dark blue beaded shawl over her shoulders, her charcoal grey blouse was long-sleeved and was tucked into black trousers, comfortable walking shoes on her feet.  Neither one of them were at all bothered by the cold, and the detective wondered if that was because they were dragons, and had that inner flame thing going on.

Sometimes she took the climate-controlled dome they worked and lived in for granted.  Casey wouldn’t be doing _that_ again for a while.

“Let’s get up to the main road, and see if we can flag something down,” Walsh suggested. 

With that, he strode forward, leaving the three ladies to follow.  Casey traded glances with their two new friends, rolling her eyes at her partner just taking control like that.

Sure, he was right, but she didn’t want to encourage him too much.

Together, they started after Walsh, sharing a laugh that her partner wouldn’t be able to hear.  He was perhaps fifty feet ahead when his head suddenly snapped back, and Jason Walsh collapsed onto the pavement as if he was a puppet that had had his strings cut.

Four large individuals – three men and a woman, all of them human – stepped into the narrow street, and the few pedestrians in the area began to run.

Casey hoped they had enough sense to call emergency services.

She automatically reached for her police-issue stun gun…only to find it not there.  This was hers and Walsh’s day off, and she’d left it at home.  Cursing, the detective stepped forward, needing to check her partner to see if he was alright, but Robyn managed to beat her to it.

“He’s still alive,” the Star Dragon reported, fingers touching the pulse point on his neck, “but looks like he was hit in the head by something.”

“Our boss would like to speak to you,” one of the attackers said, sounding almost pleasant, as if they really had a choice about whether to go with them or not.

Alyce told him what his boss could do to himself.  As far as Casey knew, that sort of thing was anatomically impossible.

“That wasn’t very nice, was it?” the man pouted.  He had a rather nondescript face, short hair – it was either dark blond or light brown – and looked as if he beat things up for a living, judging from the visible scars on his knuckles. 

Casey thought that was probably a pretty accurate assumption.

“We don’t want to hurt either you or your cousins, Detective Shraeger,” the man continued, “but we will if you don’t come with us now.”

Not wanting to let her surprise show, Casey took a step toward where Walsh was laid out on the ground, Robyn still kneeling by his side.  How had these bozos had known that Alyce had identified herself and Robyn as Casey’s cousins?  The only time that had been stated had been at the Museum…

To Doctor Jeffrey Dorian.

_Dorian was in on this._

“Robyn,” Alyce hissed, “get Jason out of here.”

The young dragon’s eyes went wide.  “But Alyce – “

“He needs to be out of the way.  Casey and I can handle these…people.”

Robyn chewed her lip worriedly.  Casey nodded as well; she knew how to protect herself, but at that moment Walsh was helpless, and while she didn’t know Alyce’s capabilities fighting-wise the other was a dragon…

But why weren’t they changing shape or something?

She really didn’t have time to consider that thought before the four were on them, and Alyce was on the move.

To Casey’s utter shock, Alyce raced toward the wall, practically running up the brick, and then strongly pushing off to propel herself toward their assailants, slamming into one of the men and knocking him to the ground, knees planted firmly on his chest.

Using the guy’s abdomen as a springboard, Alyce jumped toward the woman, climbing her like she was some sort of tree, to wrap her thighs around the woman’s throat and flinging her onto the pavement.

Damn, that was _hot_.

Casey shook her head.  Alyce had just taken down two people larger than herself, and thinking it was sexy was just so _wrong_ , if only because of the circumstances they were in right now.

But, at the same time, Alyce Harkness-Jones was kicking ass while Casey just stood there.

Nope, she wanted to get into the action.

She launched herself toward another of their assailants, swinging a fist toward the man’s face.  The blow was blocked, just barely, but that left her an opening to kick him right in the gonads.

The man screamed, high and shrill, and went down _hard_.

Casey lost sight of Walsh and Robyn, and she hoped that she’d managed to get her partner out of the way, even as she was heading toward the fourth attacker.  She caught the sound of flesh against flesh, not wanting to check to see what it meant but instinctively knowing that it was Alyce punching one of the two she was fighting.

The man she was going for was reaching into his coat for something, and Casey knew she couldn’t risk him pulling whatever it was out, because without even seeing it she was positive it was a weapon.  She slammed her shoulder into the man’s chest, knocking him off balance just enough for him to abandon bringing out whatever it was from his pocket. 

Taking the advantage she’d been given, Casey grabbed one hand and tossed her assailant over her knee and onto the street, then driving forward and jamming that same knee right into his solar plexus, forcing the breath out of him in a pain-filled squeak. 

Someone cursed; a male voice.  Casey took a moment to check on Alyce; she had the other man on his knees, one arm twisted up and back so far it was surprising his shoulder wasn’t dislocated.  The woman was still, obviously unconscious, and the first man that Casey had kicked was curled up around his wounded balls, whimpering. 

She grinned.  Alyce must have noticed, because she grinned back. 

But then, Alyce gasped, doubling over and releasing her grasp on the man she’d been fighting.

Casey opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, when she felt a sting against her neck.  Reaching up, she felt a small dart in her neck, as her vision began to go dark at the edges.

On her way out of consciousness, Casey Shraeger cursed a blue streak, pissed off beyond her ability to communicate, at the notion of being killed in an alley on Earth.

 

 


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be able to post on Thursday, I have family in town. This chapter doesn't end in a cliffhanger...sort of.

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Imperial Throneworld_ **

****

Clint had fairly vivid memories of the old vaults back in the original Playground, back before SHIELD had moved to the base in the UK, after it had become almost impossible for SHIELD to survive in the US.  They’d been subterranean, dark, and spartan, with uncomfortable furniture and what he now knew had been the odour of sweat, evil, and despair.  The longest resident of those vaults had been Grant Ward, before he’d been moved to a regular prison, where he’d spent the rest of his life. 

The vaults had been just a step up from a bare prison cell.

The current Playground had the same sorts of vaults, and the dragon knew that his mate had designed these based on the old design.  They were considerably more up-to-date, with better hidden cameras and a stronger force field barrier separating the living area where the various ‘residents’ were housed and the hard metal chair where the interrogator would sit in what was relative comfort.

Well, not really.  Those chairs could do some serious damage to a person’s back, let alone giving them a sore arse.

The other side of the gloomy room held a plain cot and toilet, and that was about it.  The light was from an indeterminate source in the ceiling, the better so no one could break a fixture and do some damage with the shards.  The cot was bolted to the metal flooring, to keep a prisoner from utilising it as a weapon as well. 

Clint had, in fact, never met Councillor Petra Thorne before.  She was a tall woman, mostly human – although there had to have been some alien in her blood at some point, judging from her deeply violet eyes – and she was every bit the aristocrat in her bearing, despite now wearing basic prison greys and having bare feet.  Clint would have guessed her at somewhere in middle age, perhaps near seventy, her face unlined except for a couple of laugh-lines around her mobile mouth.  Her black hair was cut in a stylish bob, reminding him just a little bit of how Lisa wore hers, although he thought it looked much better on his sister.

As haughty as she tried to appear, the dragon could practically smell the fear on her.  He had to wonder if she was another reincarnation, or just someone HYDRA had converted to their cause.

Steve stepped forward, right up to the invisible barrier that separated their side of the room from the cell.  Clint held back, as did Phillip and Arthur, content to let their friend take the lead in the questioning.  After all, this had been a threat to the Imperial family, and was thus Shieldsman jurisdiction.

He knew for a fact that the Empress was watching from the security suite on the main floor.

“Ms Thorne – “ Steve began.

“It’s Councillor.”

“You have been removed from the Council by order of Her Imperial Majesty, and your seat will be filled in an interim election that will be held within two standard months.”

Thorne gave a minute flinch, and Clint doubted that anyone else would have caught the tiny movement; but then, there was a reason he still carried around the nickname, Hawkeye.

“These are some serious charges against you,” Steve continued.  “Her Imperial Majesty is willing to forego the death penalty if you decide to cooperate with us in our investigation.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” the former Councillor denied.  “I don’t even know why I’m being held against my will.”

“Ms Thorne, you know every well why you’re here…the attempted murder of the Imperial family.”

“You can’t prove I had anything to do with that.” Thorne tilted her head back, looking down her nose at Steve…which was a neat trick, considering that Steve was about half a foot taller than she was.

“You know, if you hadn’t tried to run, we might never have suspected you right away.”  Steve shifted slightly, planting his feet a little farther apart and tucking his hands behind his back in a form of parade rest.  “Once we caught you at the spaceport, using forged documents in an attempt to leave Throneworld, we knew you were the one behind it.  Although, we’d managed to gain information that linked your company directly to Persephone Corporation, and to Derek Anthony’s doomsday weapon project, so even if we hadn’t found the evidence we needed in your house here on Throneworld we could have held you on a charge of being complicit in a terrorist plot.”

“You had no right to search my home – “

“We had every right,” Steve rolled over her objection.  “We have proof that you were in collusion with Derek Anthony, also known as Uther Pendragon, and that your company was traced back through the dedicated server that Anthony’s scientists were using to record their experiments.  Anthony has been charged and is waiting indictment for his connections to HYDRA and for being responsible for contracting to complete a doomsday weapon against Imperial edict.  Yes, he was a resident of Stark’s World, but the Central Computer has ceded the investigation over to ImpSec and Torchwood and has terminated Anthony’s residency for breaking the accords that his ancestor signed when applying for a place in Cartel Space – “

“And you trust a computer of all things?”

Which, of course, was a confirmation that HYDRA had no idea that it wasn’t just a computer running Stark’s World.  Clint was glad; he didn’t want anyone to target Stark.  Sure, the guy was an egotist and more than a little crazy, but he was a friend.

The smirk that decorated Steve’s handsome face was a treat to see.  “You, apparently, have no idea just what the Central Computer is, then, if you think that.  Her Imperial Majesty trusts the Central Computer implicitly, as well as the information broker known as Sakura, who was also a help in discovering what HYDRA has been up to.” 

Thorne’s eyes flickered toward Phillip.  “This is a Torchwood plot, Grand Master.  They’re throwing this false evidence on me, to get me out of the way and in revenge for voting for the audit of the Institute.  Once you fully investigate the bombing, you’ll see who was really responsible.”  A small, superior smile graced her features.  “By putting this so-called enquiry into Torchwood’s hands, you’re playing into their plan.”

Clint felt his mate’s shoulder shaking slightly through the close contact they had, and he could tell it was from laughter, and not anger.  Phillip was _amused_ by Thorne’s accusations, and trying very hard to keep his placid mask in place and not laughing in her face. 

Steve sighed.  “Oh, Ms Thorne,” he shook his head, pity dripping from him like sweat would drip from anyone _not_ a long-lived super-soldier.  “You might as well give up that line of accusation immediately.  You were never going to win the audit vote.  There’s far too much respect for Director Coulson-Jones and the Torchwood Institute for that sort of thing to ever happen, not on Her Majesty’s watch.”

Clint had to wonder just what this audit thing was, and made a mental note to ask his mate about it when they had time.  It obviously had to do with the pretence of getting Phillip to Throneworld.

“That just means Torchwood could get away with murder and no one would know,” Thorne pressed, despite the fact that she was on the losing side.  Clint wasn’t sure if she was keeping it up out of some sort of need to cast aspersions on his mate, or if she really believed it.

His own snort of amusement earned him Thorne’s attention.  “Of course, you’d think this was funny,” she snapped.  “You’re a Harkness-Jones, and at the very heart of the corruption.  Power has gone to your heads, and you don’t care who you step on in order to get your way.”

Clint’s eyes widened.  Alright, it was obvious she really did believe that.  Still, despite that epiphany, he couldn’t help but laugh right in her face.  He felt his mate touch his hand, to get him to back off, but the dragon couldn’t now if he tried. “You’re nuts.  Absolutely nuts.  Do you have any idea at all how many planets and people that Torchwood has saved in its existence?  All the way back, during Earth’s 20th and 21st centuries, Torchwood operatives were putting their very lives on the line to save innocent people who might have been hurt or killed – or worse – by aliens trying to take over their world.  Torchwood is the reason we even have peace now, and you can’t see that beyond your own fucking need to knock down an organisation that has _sacrificed_ and _bled_ and _died_ for you and your ancestors, without any expectations of at least a nice ‘thank you’.  We’ve fought Daleks and Cybermen and Skrulls and mad gods and any number of antagonistic races while you and yours remained ignorant at just how close they’ve come to being destroyed.” 

He took several steps forward, giving that insufferable woman his best murder glare.  “What have _you_ done, Thorne?  Who have _you_ saved?  I’ll tell you who…no one.  You’ve spent your time gathering power and money and not using it to help those who need it.  You should be ashamed of yourself, and pray for thanks every night to whatever deity you worship that Torchwood was willing to do this for you and for those you care for, and not ask for a damned thing in return.”

The woman’s face had gotten paler and paler under Clint’s verbal assault.  She truly seemed upset at Clint’s words, and he couldn’t be more pleased.

“What are they going to find at your businesses and your home on Trafusis?” he went on inexorably.  “Just what have you done, all in the name of HYDRA?  Because it seems to me you’ve fallen for their spiel hook, line and sinker.  You actually believe the poison they’ve been spewing.  You’re up to your neck in this, and did you even question them when they came to you and told you all this?”

Thorne visibly attempted to regather her composure.  “I’ve seen the evidence of Torchwood’s ways.  They’ve become nothing but a cult, making people believe in reincarnation and magic and your family is at the heart of it!  And your ‘Once and Future King’ bollocks!  Playing off people’s fears and superstitions!”

Clint couldn’t help the full-bellied laugh at her ridiculous claims.  He glanced back toward his nephew; Arthur was rolling his eyes at her.

“Like I wanted any of that destiny shite,” Arthur denied.  “I just want to live my life with my family, and leave all of that behind.  It’s not done me any favours, and power doesn’t interest me one jot.”

Thorne was looking at Arthur as if he was some sort of puzzle she couldn’t figure out.  “You say that now, but I know all about the Pendragon Protocol.  I know what that means!”

Oh, shit…

Phillip was muttering something that, even with his dragon-enhanced hearing Clint couldn’t catch but inferred it was all cursing.  Steve was shaking his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

How had she known?

Clint had, because Phillip had complained enough about it.  But there should have been no way Thorne could have discovered the Protocol, it was something that Danielle had kept carefully hidden, simply because she knew Arthur wouldn’t agree to it.

Arthur’s expression was confused.  “I’m sorry…Pendragon Protocol?”

Thorne snorted.  “Please.  Stop acting as if you don’t know all about it.  You’ve managed to manoeuvre yourself into the perfect position to take control of the Empire if anything ever happened to the Imperial family.”

“This was what this whole thing was about?” Steve asked incredulously.  “You wanted to assassinate the Empress, the Consort, and the Heir in order to expose the Pendragon Protocol?”

“Wait,” Arthur cut in, sounding incredibly put out, “is she _serious_?  Is there really something called the Pendragon Protocol?  That would put _me_ up as _Emperor_? And whose brilliant idea was that, anyway, so I can go and cuss them out for even suggesting such a thing?” 

Clint took several steps backward, in order to get out of the line of fire.  If there was something Arthur hated above all else, it was all that Once and Future King crap.  It was the main reason the Protocol had been kept quiet: to keep Arthur from fighting tooth and nail against it.

Arthur was a dragon; ‘tooth’ and ‘nail’ wasn’t just a metaphor.

“Did you know about this, Uncle Phillip?” Arthur demanded.  “It’s obvious Steve did.  But did you?”  He threw his hands up.  “No, don’t answer that.  _Of course_ you did.  Grandfather and Grandtad most likely did as well.  And, apparently, you all thought it was perfectly okay to do this to me, knowing how I feel about being the ruler of _anything_?”

Arthur sounded _betrayed_.  Clint didn’t blame him.  He’d been through enough with all the baggage that destiny had laid right at his nephew’s feet. To discover that his own family, who should have known better, had conspired against him like that? 

The problem was, Dad and Tad and Phillip had known this would happen.  Hells, _Danielle_ had known. They’d all decided to hide this from Arthur until the Protocol had to be enacted, because each and every one of them had known that, while Arthur would have hated it, he would have done his duty if it became necessary for him to step into the role of Emperor of the Human Empire.  The only way they could have ensured that occurring was to drop it in Arthur’s lap without warning, and let his sense of duty take over. 

None of them had liked it.  Clint knew that Phillip had fought against it.  But, in the end, it had become one of the many secret protocols the former Empress Juliana had set into motion.  And Danielle had agreed to it.

“Arthur,” Phillip began, “your grandparents and I argued against the Protocol.  We didn’t want you put into this position.  But none of us could talk Empress Juliana out of it.  And, you have to know we would have helped you in any way we could if it had actually played out.”

Clint glanced over at Thorne, curious to see how she was reacting to the family drama in front of her.  Her expression was one of stunned shock, and it occurred to the dragon that HYDRA must have told her that Arthur was fully complicit in the Protocol, as was Torchwood.  He could see it now: HYDRA informing her that Arthur was the Named Heir in case the entire Imperial family was killed, and that he’d have the backing of Torchwood, which would put the Institute in the unique position of being in control of the entire Human Empire. 

HYDRA must have talked her into planting the bomb, and the evidence against Clint’s mate.  Then, if the Pendragon Protocol had been put into place, HYDRA could have come out of the woodwork and claimed that Phillip had been the one responsible in order to put his own nephew on the Imperial throne.

Oh, it was such a Machiavellian plot.  Clint was grudgingly impressed. It was what he’d been afraid of when Barney had come forward and had explained his suppositions. 

“You…didn’t know,” she whispered, realisation blooming across her features.  The words were quiet, but it cut across the recriminations like a knife.  It had everyone in the room glancing in her direction.  “You honestly didn’t know about the Protocol.”

Arthur rolled his eyes at her.  “I fucking did _not_ ,” he snarled.  “The last thing I want to do it rule the bloody Empire.  I had enough of that in my first life, and sure as hells don’t want it in this one.  And my family _knows_ that.” 

That last sentence had Arthur spinning back toward Phillip.  He jabbed a finger into his uncle’s chest, which Phillip took without protest.  “Don’t think I’m not having words with the Empress about this, Uncle Phillip.  I flatly refuse to rule _anything_.”

To Clint’s surprise, his mate’s lips curled up in a tiny smile.  “Please do.  And I’d like to be there when you do, since we all kept telling her _and_ her mother this wouldn’t be a popular decision.”

“They lied to me,” Thorne continued.  She was shaking her head in disbelief.  “They had me convinced that you knew about it, and condoned it.  That’s why I agreed to go along with their plan…”  She gave a little, self-deprecating smile.  “I’ll tell you everything you want to know, if just to wreck their own lives like they just wrecked mine.  They don’t deserve any sort of loyalty from me, not now.”

“Thank you, Ms Thorne,” Steve said.  “We appreciate your cooperation.”

Clint was sincerely glad that _someone_ in HYDRA was showing some sense.

 

 


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm a little late posting today, but I got a bit distracted with the next story...

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Ddraig Llyn_ **

**_Interlude – Henry Morgan_ **

****

Henry quietly closed the door to the bedroom, not wanting to awaken his mate by his attempt at a stealthy exit.

It still scared him, how close he came to losing Rowena.  Every time he saw that white bandage wrapped about his mate’s chest, it reminded him that the Dragon Slayer had come very close to murdering her, and if it hadn’t been for his son, he would now be mourning the person who’d turned out to be his soulmate, after so many centuries of existing alone.

He didn’t want to think what Rowena’s death would have done to him.  Yes, he would have continued on, raising their adopted ‘twins’, but Henry knew he’d have become a hollowed-out shell of himself.  He’d always questioned why he’d been made immortal until he’d met her, and then the idea of having someone walk beside him throughout his eternity had been like a dream come true for him.  It hadn’t even occurred to him that she might, someday, have been taken away from him, until he’d had time to consider it as he’d awaited rescue in the Pacific Ocean, after he’d come back to life when the bastard who’d killed Sabrina had killed him as well. 

It gave him nightmares, just thinking about it.

Henry sighed.  He made his way down the hallway of the house that had been provided for him and his family as Rowena recuperated from her injuries.  He could hear conversation coming from the kitchen, and he smiled as he recognised Abraham saying something that Jocelyn answered, and then the deeper voice of his brother-by-mating, Gareth, who had been in to check on Rowena’s progress before she’d gone back to sleep.  According to him, Rowena was healing nicely, which was a relief. 

The three of them were in the kitchen, where Jocelyn was making sandwiches for lunch.  Henry leaned on the door jamb and watched his daughter bustling about the space, getting plates and cups down from the cupboard as Abraham and Gareth sat in the breakfast nook around the small table there, where a plate piled high with the aforementioned sandwiches was waiting. 

Henry’s stomach grumbled, and Jocelyn must have heard, because she turned to smile at him as she carried the plates to the table.  “You could get the juice from the refrigerator, Dad,” she suggested, her words bringing his presence to the attention of the others. 

Grinning, Henry did as his daughter bid.  Never in all of his greatest dreams had he seen this, this wonderful family that he’d gained for his sins.  “Is apple alright with everyone?” he enquired as he noticed two pitchers; one of apple, and one of cranberry.  While Jocelyn, Rowena, and himself loved cranberry, Abraham didn’t, so he didn’t offer.

That earned him three affirmations, so Henry lifted the large, glass pitcher off of its rack and carried it to the table.  The pitcher itself was an antique, like pretty much everything else in the modest house the Morgan-Joneses lived in, but that was certainly to be expected when being a member of a clan made up of immortals – dragons and other types – and reincarnated souls.  It made Henry feel more at home than ever.

He took a seat opposite Gareth, who wasn’t shy about helping himself.  One of the things that Henry had noticed almost immediately about the dragons of his family were their appetites, and the sheer number of sandwiches would have fed a human family of twenty, and yet the immortal was well aware he’d be lucky if he got two.  It gave him a fond feeling, and he couldn’t figure out why.

“Is Mum sleeping?” Jocelyn asked, as she helped herself to three of the sandwiches.

“She is.”

“I’ll make her up a plate of something later, then.”

Henry gave his daughter a tender smile.  “She’ll appreciate that.  You might want to make that two plates though.  She’s seems to be eating more now that she’s healing.”

“There…there’s a reason for that,” Gareth replied.  “And it’s more than just healing.”

Henry’s brother-by-mating was staring at his medical tablet, with a sandwich in his other hand, seemingly forgotten; and if the immortal was any judge of expression – and he was, a very good one – Gareth was looking a little gobsmacked at what he was seeing. 

“What is it?” Henry didn’t think it was anything to be concerned about, because if it was Gareth wouldn’t be so sanguine about it.

Gareth carefully put the sandwich down on his plate, and his face gained a happy smile.  “These are the latest blood test results.” He waved the tablet about.  “I’ve been concerned about possible infection, so I’ve been taking blood every four hours, just in case.”

“I take it there’s no infection then?”

“Not at all.  As a matter of fact, I was going to start spacing out the testing to every morning, since if there hasn’t been anything develop by now I’m pretty certain Rowena is out of danger from that sort of thing.”

“But what did the results say, Uncle Gareth?” Abraham asked even as he was stuffing a sandwich into his mouth.  Henry had always wondered if his son had, somehow, gotten his table manners from his grandfather, as he and Rowena both had impeccable manners when it came to eating.

Well, there was that time Rowena decided to wolf down an entire buck, but that had been an isolated instance and she’d been in the mood to hunt at the time.  Henry had laughed at the antlers getting stuck in his mate’s teeth, as there wasn’t anything quite as funny as a dragon who couldn’t get something out from between their molars.

The happy smile brightened.  “Congratulations, Henry…you’re going to be a father again.”

The sandwich fell from Henry’s suddenly numb fingers.  “What?”

“It seems that Rowena is pregnant.”

That news had both Jocelyn and Abraham up and out of their chairs, and dancing around the kitchen, laughing and crying and hugging each other. 

Henry, though…he was stunned.

Absolutely, completely stunned.

He and Rowena had believed they’d never have natural children of their own.  Yes, he was aware they were attached to a family that had defeated all of the odds when it came to getting pregnant – Ianto was a prime example – but Henry himself, no matter how long he’d lived, had never been able to reproduce with any of his previous lovers.  He’d believed that becoming immortal had also made him infertile, and so he and Rowena had given up on that particular dream, happy to have adopted the two they had now, and possibly adopting more later on.

His eyes met Gareth’s, and his brother nodded once, in confirmation of his words, his eyes glittering with joy.  “Are you…” Henry faltered, not wanting to ask but needing to.

“Positive,” Gareth said.  “We’re going to need to run some more tests to make certain the baby hasn’t been injured by the medications we’ve been giving Rowena, but…yes, she’s pregnant.  I’d have to say by ten weeks, but that’s a rough estimate given the level of hormones in this latest sample.  I never tested for it before because it wasn’t something I was expecting, given your own history, Henry.  It was just a fluke that I did it now.”

Henry slumped down in his chair, heart beating so loud he was positive it would have been heard all the way out to the lake.  He was going to be a father.  Again.  This…he didn’t know quite how to handle the sheer joy that was exploding within him, to know that he and Rowena would have another child, and that Abraham and Jocelyn would be gaining a sibling…

And then, in a heartbeat, it all came crashing down as he realised just how close he’d come to losing this.

This felt like a panic attack.  He’d had many of them in his years of being immortal, so he was well aware of what a panic attack was like.  Henry suddenly couldn’t breathe, and his heart felt as if the very muscles were misfiring.  His eyes darted up to meet Gareth’s, and his doctor brother-by-mating was up in a second, pushing Henry’s chair away from the table, and forcing his head between his knees.

“Breathe,” Gareth ordered, rubbing his warm hand across Henry’s back.

Henry could hear his children responding to their father’s distress, but the immortal couldn’t answer.  He’d not only come close to losing his mate, but their _unborn child_ …

_Goddess save me…_

As soon as he could speak – which, to be honest, Henry had no idea how long that was – he snarled, “I will put the Dragon Slayer in the _ground_ for nearly killing my mate and my unborn baby.”

“I think you might have just moved to the front of the vengeance queue,” Gareth said, anger underpinning what would have been teasing words…if it were a completely different situation. 

“But Dad,” Jocelyn exclaimed, “we’re gonna have a new baby!”

Henry sat up, smiling in the face of his children’s excitement.  He was unbelievably furious at the Dragon Slayer for targeting Rowena, but he couldn’t help the joy that came bubbling up within him at the very real truth that he and his mate were going to be parents, and that Abraham and Jocelyn were so happy at the idea of being older siblings. 

“We’ll tell your mother as soon as she wakes up,” Henry promised.  He glanced at Gareth.  “You know she’d going to be extremely put out over the fact that you told me first?”

Gareth snorted.  “I’ll apologise to her later.  She’ll understand…eventually.”

“We need to tell Grandtad and Granddad and Aunt Anwyn and _everyone_!” Abraham enthused. 

“Slow down,” Henry laughed.  “I agree that we need to tell everyone the good news, but I think Ianto needs to know about it first.” As patriarch of the Jones clan, Ianto would have to be the first one notified that the family was about to gain one more; it wasn’t a written rule, more implied, but it just seemed to the correct thing to do.  “Then we can tell everyone else.” 

There would be some sort of party involved.  There had been when Clint had gotten pregnant, so it was a forgone conclusion that there would be a celebration. 

It might be the best sort of distraction the entire family needed from current events.  Everyone was so tense right now, with the hunt for HYDRA and the Dragon Slayer.  This would be just the thing they all needed to regain a sort of equilibrium, and perspective.

Not that Henry wanted to use his newest child like that, but he couldn’t deny that the timing was right on point.  It would be an affirmation of life, instead of the spectre of death that had settled over them all.

“Now,” he went on, “everyone eat lunch. I’m going to walk over and let Ianto know the good news.”  He knew for a fact that his father-by-mating was in the valley; Jack, however, was on Trafusis, and he could trust Ianto to tell the other man as soon as he possibly could. 

This would also give Henry a chance to get any sort of update there might be on what was occurring.  They’d all watched what had happened on Throneworld yesterday, and he had to admit he was very worried for Phillip, after that display of magic his brother-by-mating had put on.  He was proud that the Empress had given credit where credit was due, but he also knew Phillip; knew the man wouldn’t be all that pleased with the sudden attention he would be getting. 

“Dad,” Jocelyn chided, “you need to eat, too.”

“And I will.”  He grabbed his sandwich.  “I’ll eat on my way over to the Inn.  Watch your mother for me, and I’ll be back soon.”

“Let us know what’s going on when you get back, too,” Abraham said.

“I shall.” 

Henry kissed Jocelyn on the top of the head, and then ruffled Abraham’s hair, which had his son rolling his eyes at the gesture.  He clapped Gareth on the shoulder on his way out of the kitchen, taking a bite of his sandwich as he slipped his shoes on at the door.  He had to hold the sandwich in his teeth in order to wrestle his coat on, but then he was out of the house, heading down the path toward the lake.

Ddraig Llyn was a magical place.  Henry had loved the village from the first moment he’d seen it, on the day Rowena had brought him home to meet her parents.  At the time, the immortal had been nervous about it, but Jack and Ianto had welcomed him with open arms, and Henry had discovered that the rumours about the former Torchwood Director were true, and that Jack was the only other, functioning, known immortal in the universe; in a totally different way, but still.  It had given both of them a firm footing for the friendship that had blossomed between them, and Henry had been disappointed in not having gotten to know Jack so much sooner.  They have been opposites: Jack was so much more flamboyant than Henry could ever hope to be, but that only made their relationship that much stronger.  Honestly, the magical immortal was more like Ianto than Jack in his manners.

It had snowed a little overnight, and Henry’s shoes crunched through it as he made his way past other houses, each one a throwback to an earlier time, when the Earth hadn’t been the founder of a vast Empire that spanned more galaxies than Henry would most likely ever see.  Unless he and Rowena decided to take up travelling the archaeological sites throughout Imperial Space…but that plan would most likely need to be put on hold, now that they were expecting a baby. 

Still, they had time.  Henry had yet to get his doctorate in Archaeology, and that would take a couple of years.  Perhaps in a century they’d be able to put their plans into motion.

For now, they were either going to need a larger house, or add onto to the one they’d been set up in while Rowena recuperated.  He’d have to discuss it with his mate.

He greeted the few people who were out; mostly the full-time residents who’d taken to life within the secluded valley because they wanted a simpler way of life.  Each and every one of them was a dragon friend, much like the ones who’d lived in Ddraig Llyn before the place had been abandoned after Jack and Ianto had moved to Hubworld. 

Henry gave a jaunty wave to Emlyn and Aymara, with their daughter, Bronwyn, who were entering their own house just down the path from Henry and Rowena’s own.  Emlyn gave him a double-take at his grin, and she whispered something to her own mate that had Aymara staring at him as he passed by.

“Good news then, Henry?” Emlyn called out. 

He turned in place as he walked past, keeping his eye on his sister-by-mating and her chosen mate, his feet sure on the well-beaten path.  “Quite possibly the best news I could have gotten,” he answered.

That had Aymara laughing happily, and Henry just knew that she’d figured it out simply from his response.  “Congratulations!” she exclaimed happily.

It seemed to take Emlyn a couple of extra seconds, and Henry was turning back toward the Inn when her own congratulations echoed her mate’s.  He could just make out Bronwyn asking her mothers what was going on, but not the response.

The immortal didn’t even have to guess at who would be planning the party in that moment.

Well, so much for Ianto finding out first.

The Water Dragon was sitting at the edge of the lake, looking extremely pleased with himself.

Henry couldn’t help it.  He stalked right up to the Great Dragon, waggling a finger at him.  “I take it I have you to thank for this?” Traditionally, the Water Dragon was the one the ceremonies claimed was responsible for fertility, so this only made sense.

 _“I know not what you mean,”_ the Water Dragon laughed, scales glittering wetly in the sunlight as his sides heaved. 

“And you expect me to believe that?”

_“Of course not.  As you know me so well, Henry.”_

He couldn’t help the fond smile he gave the Great Dragon.  When he’d first been introduced to the four Great Dragons, Henry had been intimidated even though he’d tried very hard not to show it.  Coming face-to-face with such ancient and metaphysical beings would have intimidated anyone.  Now, however, he knew then as well as he could, and he quite liked them all.

He had to wonder just when the Water Dragon had managed to meddle, but then Anwyn had been a gift from the Great Dragons as well, and she’d been conceived on Hubworld.  So, really, it could have been set in motion at any time.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. 

_“You are quite welcome, my son.  You and Rowena are precious to us, and we would do anything for you. You have already proven that you will be excellent parents to the little ones your mate is carrying.”_

“We’ll do our best…” And then he spluttered to a halt.  “Ones? _Plural_?”

The Water Dragon laughed happily, and then dove back into the lake, causing nary a ripple in the placid surface.

Henry stood there, in shocked disbelief.  “Wait!” he shouted.  “Just how many are we dealing with, here?”

It had to be twins.  Rowena was a twin, so that made sense.  But there was no telling just what the bloody Dragon had done.  For all he knew, it could be some sort of dragon litter, although Ianto was very fond of saying that dragons didn’t have litters…

He turned and headed back toward the inn, making a mental note to let Gareth know just what he’d been told.  This would please Jocelyn and Abraham more than expecting just one sibling.

Yes, it pleased Henry as well, although there was just a little bit of sheer shock in him as well.

Gravel crunched under his feet as Henry walked up to the front door of the main Harkness-Jones residence, still known as the Green Dragon Inn even though it had long ago ceased to serve that function.  The exterior reminded him of inns and hostels he’d known back when he’d been mortal, and Ianto had once explained to him that the original inn was much older than that.  Henry could believe it; he could practically feel the age of the place, although this version of the inn wasn’t all that old compared to the valley itself. 

By habit, Henry kicked his shoes off as he entered the house.  He slipped his coat off and hung it from one of the hooks by the door, the warmth of the place making his cold fingers tingle.  Ianto was standing at the viewscreen in the lounge, little Daisy on his shoulder – and Henry couldn’t wait to experience _that_ again – and Anwyn standing next to her father.  They were both tense, and Daisy was silent, which was unusual for the baby dragon, and Henry knew immediately something was very wrong.

His news forgotten, he joined the pair in front of the screen.  It was split into two: Jack and Cadi on the right, and Robyn with that Lunar detective…Walsh, the one who resembled Clint, on the left.  All four of them didn’t look at all happy, which matched the mood in the house.

He got a closer look at Detective Walsh; he was sporting a cut along his hairline, and Henry could tell it had been caused by a blow to the head, and would bruise spectacularly.  Robyn’s eyes were in their dragon aspect, which was unusual in the extreme; Henry could count on one hand the times he’d seen his little sister look like that. 

“What’s going on?” he asked Anwyn, standing next to her.

“Detective Shraeger and Alyce were kidnapped,” his sister growled.

Henry’s heart dropped into his shoes.  “Do we know who did it?”

 _“Not for sure,”_ Detective Walsh answered, the microphones in the screen picking up Henry’s question. 

 _“It was Dorian,”_ Robyn growled. 

“Doctor Dorian?” Ianto pressed.

Henry knew who that was; he’d heard all about the meeting with the historian and what they’d discovered about the mysterious ring that had been found in his and Rowena’s bedroom. 

 _“Why do you say that, sweetheart?”_ Jack asked.

 _“When we met Dorian at the museum,”_ Robyn explained, _“Alyce told him that we were Casey’s cousins – “  
_ “You were at the British Museum?” Ianto confirmed.

 _“We were, but we can talk about that later, Tad.”_ Robyn brushed him off, in a way she wouldn’t normally do.  Robyn was quiet and held a lot of deference for her fathers, and usually wasn’t rude to either him or Jack.

But this was Alyce, the one sibling of the entire Harkness-Jones Horde that Robyn was closest to.  Henry would have thought them as mates, if they weren’t sisters, and Ianto had once said the same thing.

_“The attackers called Alyce and me Casey’s cousins.”_

_“And you’d only told Dorian that,”_ Cadi said.

“Who the hells is this Jeffrey Dorian?” Anwyn demanded.  “Is he HYDRA?  Was the whole thing with the ring some sort of bizarre set-up for you, Tad?  Is the Dragon Slayer even who we think he is now?”

That was an excellent question.  Henry’s own logic was pointing out to him that, if it had been Ianto and Anwyn alone at the museum the first time for that original meeting, would Dorian had made some sort of move on them?  Had the presence of the two Lunar detectives put paid to that plan? 

“No,” the dragon patriarch mused.  “I tend to believe that part of the story.  I don’t think Dorian would have deviated that much from the truth, really.  We’ve seen how HYDRA has a tendency to throw their failures under the proverbial bus, and I wonder if that wasn’t what he was doing…”

 _“But we can’t know for sure,”_ Jack pointed out, _“and now he has Alyce and Detective Shraeger.”_

 _“I want to go back to the museum and confront him – “_ Walsh began.

“You won’t be alone, Detective,” Ianto vowed.  “I’ll be there presently.”

“Do we know who this Dorian person is?” Henry wanted to know.  “Is he yet another reincarnation, or does he work for HYDRA of his own, free will?”

“I may be able to answer that.”

Everyone in the room turned toward the voice.  It was Toshiko Sato, standing just inside the room, a serious expression on her face that didn’t seem to fit her young features.  It wasn’t easy to think of her as a ten-year-old child when she wore that particular expression, and Henry wished he’d met them woman back when she’d been with Torchwood.

“What do you have, Toshiko?” Ianto asked.

“I’ve been doing a little digging into everyone even peripherally involved in everything that’s been going on,” she answered, walking around the sofa to the control keyboard for the viewscreen.  “Doctor Jeffrey Dorian seems perfectly clean.  He’s been with the British Museum for fifteen years, working his way up to his current position as an expert in Medieval Art and a Restoration Specialist.  He has a perfectly normal background: family, education, residency…it all checks out.”

“Then we have to assume he’s a reincarnation,” Anwyn said.

“All I know is,” Ianto added, “is that he’s nearly a dead ringer for the original Owen Harper.  I was shocked the first time I saw him.”

No, that wasn’t possible…

Henry was aware of the stories of Jack and Ianto’s original Torchwood team, and he’d done some additional research in his downtime while watching Rowena, since that original team was now showing up as reincarnations.  He, too, had been shocked when he’d seen his first image of Torchwood’s Medical Officer…

 _“Henry?”_ Jack’s voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“You say he resembles Owen Harper?” Henry needed to know. 

Ianto was confused.  “Yes, he does.”

The immortal squared his shoulders.  “Then, I’m going with you, Ianto.  I…need to.”

“What do you know?” Anwyn enquired worriedly.  As if sensing his upset, Daisy had climbed down her Grandtad’s shoulders and had launched herself at Henry, and it had taken all of his reflexes in order to catch her before she could fall.  She cooed at him, the sweet sound ending like a question, staring up at him with large blue eyes that seemed to see far more than he wanted her to.

“I can’t be certain,” he said slowly, “but I don’t think we’re dealing with a reincarnation here.”

 _“What are you talking about?”_ Cadi looked as if she wanted to crawl through the screen.

Henry swallowed heavily.  If what he was thinking…it made so much sense.  Someone had to have had knowledge of certain past events…the pieces were falling into place for the immortal, and he didn’t want to consider it, but he had to…that this person had targeted Rowena specifically, that they’d known she was his mate.

That Rowena being hurt was his fault.

“I think…I think we’re dealing with another immortal.  One that looks exactly like Owen Harper, but is so much older than him.  His name is Adam, and he’s my enemy.”

 

 

 


	38. Chapter 38

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Trafusis_ **

****

As he and Cadi made their way back to Doc B’s home, Jack let himself stew in the sheer fury that Henry’s revelations had caused.

No, he wasn’t angry at his son-by-mating.  When Henry had first begun courting Rowena, he’d come to Jack and Ianto and had recounted his story…all of it.  Including the mad immortal that had called himself Adam. 

Henry had been quite up-front about his dealings with Adam and how that had eventually played out.  That Henry had been forced to cause catastrophic brain damage in the other immortal, putting him in a vegetative state and, unlike Jack himself, Henry and his counterpart didn’t heal quickly.  Adam would have been brain-dead for the rest of his existence, unless he was killed and allowed to resurrect….which Henry hadn’t meant to allow.

However, he’d lost track of Adam in 2150, when the Daleks invaded the Earth for the last time.  Henry had said that the long-term facility that he’d had Adam kept in had been destroyed, and when Adam hadn’t reappeared to harass Henry, the other immortal had assumed that Adam had either gone to his final death in a fiery wash of Dalek energy weapon, or else he’d simply decided to leave Henry alone. 

Adam had vanished despite Henry’s best efforts to locate him.

No, Jack was furious at himself.

The moment he’d found out there was possibly another immortal out there, mad or no, he should have moved heaven and earth to find him.  Jack should have used any and all resources he had at his fingertips to search for the man, and he hadn’t done it.

However, hearing that Adam was the lookalike of their own Owen Harper, from back during the time they were on the same team together, was a new complication.

Add to that the fact that his daughter, Alyce, was missing…

“Dad!” Cadi’s shout had him stopping in his tracks.  The crowd in the market swirled around him, some of them cursing at him for standing in the middle of foot traffic.

Cadi was a few feet away, hands on her hips, staring at him worriedly.  “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you?”

Jack sighed.  “No, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he apologised.  “My mind was a million miles away.”

He traced the few steps back to his daughter, who was standing in-between a pair of rough-looking stalls, one of them selling rugs and the other battered items that the proprietor was hawking as antiques, and were anything but to Jack’s practiced eye. 

Cadi wrapped an arm around his waist.  “I’m worried, too, Dad.  But you know Tad, Henry, and Anwyn will take care of things…”

“I do.  And we have our own job to do.  It’s just…” he sighed again.  “This new information of Henry’s…it ties everything up in a nice bow, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” she agreed, “but we probably shouldn’t be talking about this here.  Doc’s house is just up the street.  We can discuss this there.”

She was right.  Airing things out in the middle of a crowded street wasn’t the way to keep operational security. 

So, he nodded and, taking her hand, they made their way toward the seated Jem, once again at this post on the stoop of Banner’s home.  He grinned at them at their approach, but something in their expressions had that expression dying, and a concerned look appeared in his eyes.  “That bad?” he asked.

“No,” Cadi answered him.  “It’s much worse.”

The man whistled, but didn’t ask anything else as they headed inside the cool interior of the house.

Adrastea came out of the front room the moment she heard them enter.  “Father and the Doctor are in the medi-lab,” she greeted them also seeming to get the hint that things were bad, because that was all she said, and she moved with alacrity down the hallway and to the kitchen. 

The door to the cellar – it had been pointed out to Jack last night during the tour they’d all received – was cracked open, and Adrastea led them down the stairs and into the large medical laboratory that took up most of the space.  In fact, the cellar was far larger than Jack would have guessed, and he thought it might have been extended beneath the two houses on either side of this one.

The medi-lab itself was surprisingly state-of-the-art.  The rest of the house was well-worn and lived-in, but the laboratory was clean and brilliant and gleaming.  The equipment was neatly put away, and a couple of refrigeration units hummed brightly in one of the corners.  Every single one of the fixtures in the ceiling worked, casting light all over the room.

There were several cots against one wall, crisp white sheets made with sharp corners, almost military really.  On one of the cots was a woman and a child, both of mixed race, and Banner was in full-on doctor mode, examining the little boy carefully, saying something that made the child laugh and the mother smile.  The Doctor hovered over Banner’s shoulder, watching intently, but Jack knew that the Time Lord was aware of their presence from the moment they stepped into the medi-lab.

“Let me get you that medication,” Banner said, standing from the crouch he’d been in, and even from across the room Jack could hear the elderly man’s knees creaking.  “You’ll need to give it to him twice a day, _masari_ Sana, and make certain he takes it all.”

“Of course, Doc,” the woman, Sana, agreed gratefully. 

Banner ruffled the little boy’s hair, then walked toward one of the large cabinets that flanked the refrigeration units.  He opened one, and stood there for a moment, searching for something, his head tilted back so he could see out of the old-fashioned spectacles he favoured.

Then, when a satisfied grunt, he reached inside and brought out a small bottle. 

Jack turned back to the mother and son.  He could see at least three different racial bloodlines in them, and it made them both quite unique in their own way.  He couldn’t help the smile as his daughter approached the pair, and she took Banner’s place, kneeling in front of them, talking lightly.

The Doctor joined Jack, watching Cadi interact with the mother and child.  “She’s quite good with children,” the Time Lord murmured.  “She’ll make an excellent mother herself someday.”

“If we can talk her out of her wild ways,” Jack returned.  Truly, he was proud of his wayward child, and not because of her criminal record.  Cadi did what she thought was right, driven by the Harkness-Jones moral code she’d learned at her parents’ knees; she was just more…creative…in how she went about things, and that usually meant an illegal act.

“She might be closer to ready than you think.”

Before Jack could ask what the Doctor meant by that, Banner had passed along the medication and was ushering his patients out, wishing them a good day.  “Let’s go up to the study,” he suggested, “and Jack can tell us what’s got him so angry.”

Well, he hadn’t done anything to hide how he was feeling; but then, if anyone knew anger, it was Bruce Banner, even if Jack hadn’t been broadcasting it just from his expression alone.  Not that he was surprised; Ianto had always claimed that Jack carried his emotions on his sleeve, but then the dragon usually could read him like a book, which came from centuries of knowing him oh so well.

“Dad’s not the only one angry,” Cadi said, as they all left the medi-lab, “but I just hide it better.”

“Bad news from home?” the Doctor asked urgently.  Yes, he’d have had a vested interest in knowing, with him being family and all.

“Oh, so much bad news,” Cadi sighed. 

Banner ushered them all into the study, and then telling Adrastea to take care of her lessons for the day.  The teenager looked slightly mulish but obeyed, shutting the door as she left.

This time, the Doctor took one of the chairs, because Jack had the sudden need to pace, his feet moving in the same rhythm as his thoughts.  He had so many pieces of the puzzle now, and they were fitting into place…

“I’ll start,” Cadi volunteered, taking the other chair.  She went on to explain the information that had been discovered about Petra Thorne, and how she’d been implicated in Derek Anthony’s doomsday weapon project, and in the attack on the Palace.

As she spoke, Banner grew still in his chair, his hands flat against the top of the desk, barely breathing, his attention fully on what Cadi was telling him. 

“This is not good,” the scientist sighed.  “I understand why investigators are being sent here, but…we should be glad that Torchwood is with them, because things are more liable to remain calmer than if it was just Imperial Security.”

“I’ll stay around as well,” the Doctor said, “once we’ve caught up with H and G.  I want to see if I can sniff my way around some of the worst things going on.”

“That would be much appreciated,” Banner agreed.  “Your reputation, Doctor, will go quite a ways to soothe a lot of the ruffled feathers that having a crowd of Imperials on Trafusis will no doubt cause.”

“Do you know if Thorne was involved in anything shady?” Cadi prompted. 

“There are always rumours.  But I don’t have any proof of anything.  Do you have any idea who they’re going to be sending?”

“We know Fitz and Jemma – “

That had Banner perking up a little.  “I wasn’t aware they’d reincarnated.  I’ll look forward into seeing them again.”

“And Merlin will be here, as well.”

That had the Doctor grinning.  “Then I’m glad I decided to hang around…well, after I get you and Jack back home, of course.”

“We can also turn H and G over to ImpSec,” Cadi suggested.  “That is, if I don’t kill them both first.”  Her smile was dark and filled with deadly promise.

Jack noticed that the Doctor didn’t look uncomfortable with that notion, of H and G not making it into custody, and would have wondered at it if he wasn’t too busy twisting and turning the pieces of the investigation into their proper slots in his mind.

“But that isn’t all,” the Doctor said.  “That’s important, but that wouldn’t be what’s set both you and Jack off.”

Cadi slumped down into her seat.  She sent a look toward Jack, and the immortal nodded, taking up the next part of their news.

“Alyce and Detective Shraeger were kidnapped.”

That announcement had the Doctor shooting up out of his chair, his features quite scared.  “Kidnapped?  And not…?”

Jack was thankful that he didn’t use the actual word, ‘dead’.  “Yes.  They were on Earth when they were ambushed.  The ones responsible didn’t get Detective Walsh or Robyn; they were the ones who got the news back to Ianto.  They called while we were on the comm, and got the entire story.”

“But,” Cadi interjected, “it gave us a major clue as well.”

Jack went on to share what Walsh and Robyn had told them about the connection between the kidnapping and Jeffrey Dorian.

“Ianto, Henry, and Anwyn were going to Earth to see if they could locate Dorian,” Jack ended that part of the story.  “If they can find him… chances are they’ll find Alyce and Shraeger.”

But the Doctor was regarding him shrewdly.  “That’s not all, though.  Is it Jack?”

The immortal shook his head.  Trust the Doctor to be able to read him almost as well as Ianto could.  “We…suspect that Dorian is actually a mad immortal calling himself Adam.”

The goldfish look wasn’t a good one on the Time Lord.

“There’s another immortal out there?” he demanded.  “And we didn’t know about it?”

“I did,” Jack admitted. “Henry talked about him, when he first started dating Rowena.  Adam is like him… he resurrects the same way, only he’s a lot older than Henry is.  I knew about him… and didn’t go looking when I should have.”

He told them the same story that Henry had told him: about meeting Adam, about how their paths had crossed back in the 21st century; of how Adam had found Henry and stalked him, and how eventually Henry had discovered that Adam had been responsible for the death of his wife, and how Henry had sent him into a coma that should have lasted for eternity.

“Henry says he lost track of Adam when the Daleks invaded the Earth back in the 22nd century,” Jack went on.  “Henry believed at the time that he thought either Adam had somehow been completely destroyed by the Daleks, or else he’d awakened and had decided to leave Henry be.  According to Henry, he did try and search, but came up with nothing.”

“And now you’re blaming yourself for not looking for yourself,” the Time Lord said, perceptively. 

Jack rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in the air.  “Of course I am!  There’s another immortal out there, and we might not be in this mess if I hadn’t used whatever resources I had to find this Adam and at least offer to help him!  But I didn’t, and now he might very well be behind HYDRA’s resurgence!”

“How do you come up with that?” Banner enquired.

Jack had given it a lot of thought, and this was the only thing that fit all of the clues they’d managed to accrue.  “First of all,” he began counting them off, “Adam was born in 44 BCE…which means he’s older than Ianto, and would know all about dragons.  It also means he lived through Camelot, the Crusades, the coming of the Dragon Slayers…he’d have been at least a partial witness to all of that. 

“Henry says he put Adam into his coma in 2015, which means that he was around for the Avengers, and SHIELD falling, and HYDRA coming back.  He would have at least seen Ianto fighting with the Avengers during the Cybermen attack on New York.  Hells, he was _in_ New York when all of this went down, and the news was full of stories about the Torchwood Dragon! He would have seen at least the aftermath of the Master’s taking over the Earth, even if he might not know what it all meant, unless he somehow kept his memories...”

“If he knew about Lucy and the Master…” the Doctor murmured.  He was also putting together everything that Jack had, and it looked as if he was coming up with the same answers.  “He didn’t know about the Darkhold, though…that was all on Lucy.  But the kernel of the plan to bring the Master back…”

“He was in the coma during that mess with the Darkhold, I’m pretty sure.  You’d have to ask Phillip to confirm, but…yeah, that would have been after the coma…”

“You’re right,” Banner said.  “That was…” he considered, “I think, 2016 or 2017.  He wouldn’t have known about the Skrull invasion, either, or Thanos.”

“Would he have been able to even get the information on the Darkhold?” Cadi wanted to know.

“It didn’t get a lot of press, despite all that shit with the LMDs,” Jack conceded.  “But the Inhumans and the Sokovia Accords did.  And Torchwood was in a lot of that press coverage, too, despite our best efforts. As was SHIELD and the Avengers.”

Everything was tumbling through Jack’s thoughts like a thunderstorm.  It all fit. 

“It all fits,” he said aloud.  “It explains how HYDRA knew about just who to go looking for; who to bring back into the HYDRA fold.”

“Because he _saw it all_ ,” the Doctor concluded.

“Up to the point of the coma, yes.  After that…he wouldn’t have the sort of knowledge needed to bring anyone back.  And, after he awoke from the coma, it was after the Daleks had invaded, and a lot of that sort of knowledge was lost or distorted.”  Jack was back to pacing, running his hand through his hair as if he could physically tame his rampaging thoughts. “I don’t know why he waited so long to put his plan into motion…”

“It’s obvious,” Cadi said excitedly.  “Up until almost 90 years ago, Henry was pretty much lost to history.  It wasn’t until then that he came onto the galactic scene…”

“Are you saying,” Banner exclaimed, “that this entire thing has been some sort of revenge on Henry Morgan?”

“Oh, Goddess,” Jack breathed. He began to pace frantically once more, practically wringing his hands.  “Oh, not all of it was about revenge, I’m sure, because from what Henry’s said Adam is all about causing as much chaos as he possibly can.  But the attack on Rowena and Henry…yes, that would explain why the Dragon Slayer was set after them, when there wasn’t a need to…but Sabrina, she was led into a trap purposely set for her.  We’d all been thinking it was purely because she was on HYDRA’s trail, but we know for a fact now that it was also a means to an end…to get rid of Derek Anthony because he’d failed.”

“But that project was also being worked on by Morgause and her people,” the Doctor pointed out.  “Of the two, Anthony was the closest to making something like that work.”

“Except it never would have, according to Merlin and Nicole,” Cadi replied.  “It was a waste of time and resources.”

“But they were thinking to use Lisa to _make_ it work,” the Doctor added.  “Only, Morgause hadn’t counted on Lisa not wanting to have a thing to do with her former life as Morgana la Fay.”

“It didn’t hurt that Sabrina is Henry’s sister-by-mating, and a Torchwood operative,” Jack mused. 

“But why everything else, Dad? The attack on Euros…the attempted kidnapping of the Crown Prince…the other acts of terrorism…those don’t really have anything to do with us.”

“But the Euros bombings did,” the Doctor pointed out.  “Several members of your family were on Euros… and one of those bombs had been in the venue where Skylar and his theatre troupe were playing.”

“And they went after Skylar a second time on New Wales, most likely because he’s Phillip’s son and probably the easiest to strike against at the time.  They obviously didn’t count on Alyce and Robyn, and from what the kids witnessed the Dragon Slayer wasn’t expecting Robyn to change into a dragon…which shows at least some knowledge of our family, but not all, or else they would have been prepared for that contingency.”

“Exactly!”  The Doctor frowned.  “But what about the other things?  And the kidnapping?”

“A chance to cause as much mayhem as possible.”  The moment he said it, Jack knew he was correct.  “Well, except for trying to grab Joshua.  I’m pretty sure that also was meant to hurt us, as was the bombing of the Imperial Palace.”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes.  “You know something I don’t, Jack.”

That had Jack smirking despite himself.  “I know a lot of things you don’t, Doctor…but in this case, it’s not something to do with sex.”

Cadi barked a laugh at that.  The Doctor simply pinched his nose.  “Jack…”

“Sorry.”  He really wasn’t, but it sounded nice to apologise.  “It’s the Pendragon Protocol, Doctor.  That’s what you’re missing.”

“Care to explain?”

“It was something that the former Empress, Juliana, put into effect.  If anything happened to the Imperial Family, then Arthur would be named Emperor.”

The Doctor scoffed.  “I’m sure Arthur loved _that_!”

“He doesn’t know.  Empress Juliana – and now Danielle – have made those who know about the Protocol take a vow of silence because we all knew how Arthur would react.”

“So, there really is something about this Once and Future King stuff?” Banner cut in, curious.

“Yep,” Cadi answered. “But Arthur hates it.  He doesn’t want to rule _anything_ , even though he’d proven to be quite good at it.”

“That legend caused no end of trouble when he and Merlin took over Torchwood,” Jack added.  “The then-Emperor was a paranoid bastard who was positive that Arthur was going to use the Directorship of Torchwood to instigate a coup.”

“Oh, I see!”  The Doctor was shaking his head incredulously.  “We were all wondering if Phillip being recalled to Throneworld was some sort of attempted power grab.  But, can you see what would have happened if the entire Imperial family would have been killed on his watch?  And, then Arthur is named Emperor?”

Jack shuddered.  He could see it very well indeed. 

“It would have pretty much destroyed the Institute,” the Doctor continued.  “As well as the Shieldsmen, come to think of it…simply because Phillip had once been Grand Master, and founder of their order. It would have looked like Phillip had struck against the family in order to put Arthur on the throne.”

“Goddess,” Cadi breathed.  “If Phillip hadn’t come out as the hero of the piece…”

“It would have been sheer chaos,” Jack confirmed.  “The Empire would have collapsed, dragging Torchwood down with it.”

“But I have a question,” Banner spoke up.

“Just one?” Cadi asked hectically.

The scientist didn’t react to that obviously rhetorical response.  “What would they have gained at kidnapping the Crown Prince?  Yes, I understand killing the entire Imperial family…”  His voice faded out.  “Oh, of course…I think I just answered myself.”

“What?” Cadi demanded.

“Well, back in the day, HYDRA had the use of a few different methods of brainwashing.  They could very well have used any of those methods to turn the Prince to their will.  It would have been like having their own puppet potentially in the Palace.  Then, they could have easily dealt with the Empress and her Consort, taking out Torchwood in the process…would Arthur have become Regent?”

Jack nodded. “And Danielle has written in her will that Phillip and Clint be named Joshua’s guardians until he comes of age to take the throne himself…”

“Oh, this is brilliant,” the Doctor grinned.  “Maniacal, yes…but absolutely brilliant.  If Torchwood was completely discredited, and Arthur comes into power… it would work the exact same way either way they played it.”

“This was years in planning.  Decades, even.” Jack was also impressed, despite himself. If this was the Adam that Henry had known, then the man was a genius.  Twisted and mad, but genius. 

“Jack,” the Doctor’s voice suddenly went grave.  “If this is this rogue immortal pretending to be a history professor, and if he was responsible for kidnapping this police officer and Alyce…”

Oh, shit.

Jack felt the blood drain from his face as he realised just what his old friend was intimating.

It was a trap.

Everything that had led Ianto to Jeffrey Dorian was pulling him into a trap. The ring…who knew if it had truly been left behind by the Dragon Slayer?  Or if it had been planted there, for someone to find and identify?  Had it really been stolen from the British Museum, or had Adam taken it himself for the express purpose of leading any sort of investigation right to him?

Jack had to wonder if the plan had been derailed when Ianto had showed up with practically an entourage.  He shuddered at the thought of his mate walking into that, because if Adam was behind the Dragon Slayer…

And this time, it would be Henry going with Ianto. 

Maybe it would be too many for the Slayer to handle once again.  Jack could only pray to any and all deities he knew that his mate would remain safe.

“I have to get to Ianto,” he gasped. 

All thought of tracking down H and G was forgotten.  All that mattered was his mate, and what Ianto could be walking into.

Yes, Ianto was tough.  So was Henry, and Anwyn would also be going along.  Add into it Detective Walsh and Robyn…there was no way the Dragon Slayer could take them all on.  But, if they used Alyce and Shraeger against the dragon…

“Go, Dad,” Cadi urged.  “I’ll stay here and find H and G.  But you need to get to Tad and help him, and find Alyce.”

Jack nodded, so very grateful for his daughter.  Cadi looked terrified, but fierce at the same time, as if she still had all that faith in him that she’d had as a child.  She was trusting him to make things right.

She was also setting him on the path of the bastard who’d murdered Sabrina and injured Rowena and Skylar.

Cadi would handle the ones who’d betrayed her sisters and nephew, but it was Jack’s responsibility to hand out the vengeance they all swore to fulfil.

“Let’s go, Jack,” the Doctor urged.  “I’ll get you back to Ddraig Llyn – “

“No,” the immortal denied.  “London Island.  The British Museum.  That’s where Ianto, Anwyn, and Henry will go first to try to locate this Adam character.”

“Alright.”  With a swirl of purple coat, the Doctor was up and out of the room.

Jack took the time to hug his daughter tightly, kissing her on the forehead.  “Be careful.”

“I will be, Dad.  Just get that bastard, alright?”

“You know I will.”

With a quick goodbye to Dr Banner, Jack followed the Doctor out of the house, sparing a nod to Jem as he stormed down the steps and out into the crowd.

The Time Lord was nowhere to be seen, but Jack knew where the TARDIS had been parked.  He pushed his way through the pedestrians in the correct direction, knowing the Doctor was most likely nearly there, and he’d be impatient to leave.  Not that they were really in that much of a hurry, since the TARIDS was a time machine, but Jack did feel a sense of urgency that he couldn’t easily escape.  His mate was walking into something, and while he would usually trust Ianto to be able to take care of himself and the small ‘team’ he had with him, he was aware of just how brilliant and twisted this Adam person was, and he couldn’t trust that he would have learned from any of the mistakes that the Dragon Slayer had made in the past, and would have compensated for them. 

That this had all been set up, and that Adam – if this was Adam, and Jack was fairly certain now that it was – would have had contingency plans.

Jack was so focussed on getting to the TARDIS and to Earth that he failed to notice the woman who slammed into him, hard.

The impact was so surprising that Jack actually spun in a complete circle, losing his balance for a moment before compensating.  The woman had fallen backward onto her ass, and she was grinning up at him as if he was something she wanted to devour.

She had dark hair and eyes, and was wearing a plain coverall and low-heeled boots.  There was something in her expression that had Jack’s instincts screaming at him.  “What the – “ he gasped incredulously, as her face tried to stir something within his memory.

“You’re dead,” she said, sounding extremely happy about it.  “Not that you’ll stay that way for long, of course…”

Pain suddenly bloomed through his abdomen.

Jack glanced down.  There was blood on his shirt, spreading rapidly around the protruding handle of a knife in his gut.  He could actually feel the blood collecting in his stomach, and his knees gave out, his body slamming into the cracked pavement.

He’d been stabbed.

No one was paying the slightest bit of attention.

His pulse was roaring in his ears.  Jack knew he really was dying.  He hated dying.

And his mate wouldn’t be there when he woke up.

But this woman would be, he had no doubt of that.

As darkness descended, he recognised her as a monster from so many nightmares.

He knew, in his heart, that this was the privateer known as G.

_Alice Guppy._

 


	39. Chapter 39

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Imperial Throneworld_ **

****

Thorne basically confirmed all of the inferences they’d made so far.

Phillip was vaguely happy that he hadn’t lost his tactical frame of mind.

“Who gave you the bomb?” Steve asked.

The immortal had let Steve take the lead once more, after losing that lead somewhat spectacularly to Clint’s rant.  It was a rather nice rant, if Phillip thought so, even though it had gotten a bit out of control. Honestly, though, he was glad that the Pendragon Protocol had gotten out in the open, although he was a bit concerned at how that had happened.

He really did want to be an insect on the wall when Arthur declined the ‘honour’ of being an Imperial Heir.

“I don’t know his name,” Thorne answered, “but I can describe him for an artist if you want.”

“We’ll arrange one to come and speak to you.  Was this person also your HYDRA contact?”

“No.  I never met them.  I only received coded messages over communication bursts.”

That confirmed what Toshiko had said.  She’d described how hard it was to track the bursts; perhaps Thorne would be able to give them a way to do just that.  It would put them ahead of the game if they could listen in on HYDRA’s comms channels.

“Who originally contacted you?” Steve went on.

“He called himself Caesar.  No other name.  He was human, as far as I could tell.  I can get you a description of him as well.”  At Steve’s affirmative, she continued. “I met him on Trafusis, actually.  He approached me, saying he knew about my disapproval of Torchwood and if I wanted to help them to prove Torchwood was as corrupt as I thought it was.  He was the one to tell me about the Pendragon Protocol.”

They really needed to figure out how that had gotten around.  As far as Phillip was aware, only a handful of people knew that the protocol existed.  It would certainly narrow down the list of suspects, though. 

“Did he say how he knew about it?”

“No, he didn’t share that with me.  Only that it existed.  He played on my fears and had me doing whatever the hells he wanted.”  Thorne raked her fingers through her pale hair.  “I really feel like an idiot now.”

“You wanted to believe it,” Arthur spoke up.  “So, it sounded like it was true.”

“I can’t believe you really don’t want all that power.”

“I had it, once.  It’s not something I care to repeat.”

“I…appear to have misjudged you.”

“Oh, please,” Clint scoffed.  “You’re only saying this because you got played.  You still believe all that shit about Torchwood, and this isn’t going to change your mind.  You’re furious because this Caesar guy fed you some pretty lies and you swallowed them.  You’re giving us all this because this bastard pissed you off.”

Thorne shrugged, not saying anything.  But then, she really didn’t need to.

“Talk us through the plan, Ms Thorne,” Steve prompted.  “Tell us what happened.”

“I was given the bomb, and told that we’d need to get Coulson here for it.  I was supposed to make it seem as if he’d planted it.”

“You were thinking he’d die as well?”

“No.  Sure, maybe he’d be maimed, but not killed.  I certainly didn’t expect for him to come out smelling like fresh flowers and putting Torchwood into an even stronger position than it was in before.”  Her eyes met Phillip’s.  “How did you do it?” she demanded angrily. “We knew you had some sort of magic, but nothing like what you showed out there!”

Phillip didn’t say a word.  Thorne didn’t deserve an explanation, no matter how ironic it was.  After all, if HYDRA hadn’t put the plan to resurrect the Master into action, his magic would never have been jumpstarted the way it had been.  He would never have needed a booster of GH325…and his magic wouldn’t have been able to do what he’d done with the tower.

Apparently, she wasn’t really expecting one, because she turned away toward Steve once more.  “The vote for the audit was the perfect opportunity.  Cole had been wanting one for months, ever since his precious little girl was arrested.  All it took was a whisper in his ear, and a really good reason to push the vote, and he was all in.”

Well, that cleared Cole of any real complicity with HYDRA, although Phillip did suspect he knew more than what either he or Thorne were saying.  It could have just been that Cole had gotten word of HYDRA through another way; they wouldn’t know unless the man decided to talk about it.

Thorne went on, describing how she’d planted the bomb, setting it to go off after the Council meeting, knowing that the Imperial family would be in their quarters, and most likely Phillip would be with them.  All of that had gone to plan…Phillip saving everyone, however, hadn’t been a part of that.

“What about your connection to Persephone Corporation?” Steve asked, after Thorne was done.

The prisoner frowned.  “I don’t have any idea about that.”

“Come on, you’ve already told us about the bomb plot.  Why would you want to hide this, since we already have the evidence of it?”

“I am telling you,” Thorne clenched her fists at her sides, anger making her face go slightly red, “I didn’t do anything with Persephone Corporation.  If the so-called Central Computer found a link between us, then it’s either lying to you, or there’s someone else in my company that’s responsible.”

Or… HYDRA had framed her.  Any of the above theories would explain it.

“We’ll find out once we raid your home office on Trafusis,” Steve said breezily.  “You may consider all of your assets frozen and confiscated by the Empire, until such time as we can find someone to take over your businesses.”

Thorne slumped.  She was completely defeated, and she knew it.  “There are protocols in place in case something happened to me.”

“We’ll see if we can follow them.”

“Thank you, Grand Master.”  She sighed heavily.  “I knew…I knew if this failed it would be the ruin of me.  But I had to take the chance…”

“I can understand why Councillor Cole dislikes Torchwood so much,” Phillip spoke up.  “But I don’t know why you do.”

Thorne straightened her spine, meeting Phillip’s gaze.  “Five years ago, Torchwood came to Trafusis.”

“I remember.  There was an investigation into rumours of a new slave market cropping up there.”  He’d sent Sabrina in, knowing that she’d spent time on Trafusis before, for an earlier mission, and had had a decent rapport with some of the natives there. 

“My son was caught up in a raid.  He was innocent, a case of being in the wrong place, but he was still taken into custody and charged with slave trading.  That arrest ruined his life.”

Phillip flipped through the memories of that raid, coming up with the results of all the arrests that had taken place, although he knew there hadn’t been anyone named Thorne taking into custody.  “I’m sorry, Ms Thorne, but no one taken in those raids was innocent.  We had actionable evidence on everyone involved.  If your son was arrested, then he was guilty. I’d be more than willing to show you the case file that was used at his trial if you wish to see it.”

“Trumped up lies,” she snarled.  “Trumped up by the operative you assigned to the mission.”

That accusation raised Phillip’s ire.  “That operative you’re so certain of falsifying evidence was Sabrina Jones-Swann, a Star Dragon and one of the best and brightest young women I have ever had the pleasure to have under my command.”

Thorne’s eyes widened.  “She was the one HYDRA killed.”

“She was.  She was the one we made our vow to avenge.”  He took several steps, right up to the edge of the forcefield, so close he could feel the energy buzzing against his skin.  His magic rose up to combat that alien heat, and he knew his eyes had turned to ice in response.  “She was my sister-by-mating.  She was the one I was mourning when you put your plan into action and brought me here.  And she was worth ten of you.  You are no longer worth my time.” 

With that, Phillip turned on his heel and left the vault.  He could sense both Clint and Arthur following him up the stairs and into the hallway outside the vault area.  Steve was staying behind, but that was no surprise; there were still questions Steve would need the answers to, and he would keep at it until he had those answers.

He was aware that he was letting his temper get the better of him, but Phillip didn’t care.  It was just one more instance of a parent being blind to their child’s having gone bad under their care, and not realising that their parentage was most likely the base cause of it, content to blame others for their lack of skill in guiding their progeny into the correct path in life.

Phillip prayed that he would never be the same way, but then he had the example of Jack and Ianto to follow, as well as his own experience over three thousand years of existence.

Yes, there was Cadi, but the immortal could honestly say that his sister-by-mating wasn’t _evil_.  Not like Lucy Cole was, or Thorne’s son had been, to have actually gotten involved in slave trading, of all things.

Neither Clint nor Arthur said anything, for which Phillip was grateful.  He was frankly surprised he hadn’t lost control of his magic; but then, his command had been so much stronger since the overload.  The immortal still didn’t understand how that had happened, but he wasn’t going to look the proverbial gift horse in the mouth. 

Perhaps it was because of his acceptance of it.  He might never know. 

“Dads!”

Phillip spun on his heel.  Practically racing down the hallway was Nathan, followed by Brant Charlton… who’d turned out to be the reincarnation of Barney Barton, of all people.  There would always be a part of him that would hold his past life’s actions against him, but he’d never admit that to his mate. 

Nathan looked worried, and the immortal had to wonder just what it was _now_ , and if they would ever get back to normal.

“What’s going on?” Clint asked, his own voice laden with worry.

“Grandtad is on the comms,” Nathan reported. 

“Second Jones wouldn’t say what it was,” Brant added, “only that he needed to speak with you all as soon as possible.  Second Fosse ran into me first, and then I ran into Nathan.  She was going to contact Grand Master Rogers to let him know, but he was in the vaults and comm signals don’t penetrate the shielding down there.”

Phillip nodded at that.  He’d added that particular security feature himself, after a prisoner had had a comm unit actually implanted in his body, and had managed to contact his associates to arrange a rescue. 

“Why do I get the feeling something else has happened?” Arthur muttered as the three of them followed Brant and Nathan toward the communications centre.

“Because that’s the way the universe has been dumping on us lately?” Clint groused.

“Point.”

The Playground’s comm centre was as state-of-the-art as anything in the Shieldsman’s headquarters.  It was on the first floor, and filled a large room, sharing space with Orbital Control for Throneworld.  There were viewscreens on all of the walls, with a person manning each console, and the quiet chatter settled around Phillip like a blanket, calming his nerves just a bit although he couldn’t pinpoint why that was.  Perhaps it was the competency that was on display, or something undefinable in the air, but it felt good to relax a little before he heard whatever news his father-by-mating would be dropping on their laps.

There was a secure comm suite on the far end of the room, and that was where Second Fosse stood, waiting for them.  She didn’t salute this time, but Phillip could tell it was a close thing.  “We transferred Second Jones’ comm line to here, to give you some privacy.  I’ll leave Shieldsman Charlton outside on guard duty to make certain you’re aren’t disturbed.”

“Thank you, Second Fosse,” Arthur said sincerely, answering for them all.

“Director.” She inclined her head toward Arthur, following through with a similar genuflection toward Phillip, only a little deeper.  “Grand Master.”

They were inside the suite and the door closed, when Clint muttered, “Pretentious.”

That had Nathan snickering quietly, and Phillip rolled his eyes at their antics.

Arthur slid into the seat at the control console, toggling the screen on.  It flared to life, revealing Ianto, Anwyn, and Henry, with Daisy draped over Henry’s shoulders.  The moment she caught sight of them, she perked up and began chattering at them happily, as if she was telling them how glad she was to see them. 

There was no way Phillip could keep the smile off his face at the sight of his youngest daughter.  “Hey there, sweetheart,” he murmured, suddenly wanting nothing more than to be home with his family, to hold Daisy and to look after Skylar, missing them more than he could even say. 

However, judging from the expressions on the other three faces…

 _“Da!”_ Daisy called out, her tiny claws outstretched.  _“Da!  Na’an!”_

Nathan chuckled wetly. “That’s really close.”

“She’s learning so fast,” Clint whispered wonderingly, “and we’re missing it.”

“What’s wrong, Grandtad?” Arthur asked, bringing them all back on track.

 _“Alyce and Detective Shraeger have been kidnapped,”_ Ianto answered, reaching absently for Daisy as she tried to fly off Henry’s shoulder toward the screen.  She accepted his grip, settling in his arms with such a heavy sigh that had her little sides heaving.

Phillip almost forgot to breathe for a moment.  His magic surged through his veins, wanting to strike out at something.  Alyce was his youngest sister, not with her dragon form yet, but was a very competent fighter thanks to Clint’s self-defence training.  She’d helped fight off the Dragon Slayer when he’d come after Skylar. She wouldn’t have been taken easily.

And Detective Shraeger…she was a highly trained police officer, with an excellent record.  She, too, would have been difficult to capture.  Whoever had done it would have had to have been well prepared and armed.

Clint was cursing in several languages, including the Old Welsh he’d learned from his Tad.  “What do we know about the abductors?” Phillip demanded.

Ianto glanced at Henry, which was strange…until Henry began to explain.

Phillip had known about Adam.  He’d heard the story from his brother-by-mating himself, back when he’d begun to officially court Rowena.  But he’d been like Jack in the matter: there had been no reason to go looking, not when Adam hadn’t shown his face since he’d vanished back during the 2150 invasion by the Daleks. 

It seemed as if that had been a mistake on both their parts.

 _“We’re going to find them,”_ Ianto vowed. 

“You know this is most likely a trap,” Phillip pointed out.  He didn’t know why, as yet, but the information they’d just gained was slotting into place, and he could almost see the entire picture. He was so very close…

Ianto nodded.  _“There’s no choice.  We have to find them.”_

 _“All three of us are going,”_ Anwyn said fiercely.  _“Plus, Robyn and Walsh are meeting us at the transmat at London Island.  I want to see them try to handle three dragons, an immortal, and a highly trained cop.”_

 _“Samara will look after Daisy,”_ Ianto added.  _“I think she’s used to babysitting by now.”_

 _“She’ll have more to look after soon,”_ Henry muttered.

It had every single one of them staring at him.  _“Is there something you need to tell us, brother mine?”_ Anwyn enquired.

Phillip could make out Henry’s blush over the comm screen.  _“I…didn’t get a chance to say anything earlier…but, apparently Rowena is pregnant.  And, if what the Water Dragon intimated is true, there’s more than one.”_

All Phillip could think was, _at least there’s something wonderful coming from this mess._

 _“That is fantastic!”_ Anwyn enthused.  _“More little babies for me to spoil and give back!”_

“Hey, Tad,” Clint called out, “I thought dragons didn’t have litters!”

 _“Here, I wanted to say that to him!”_ Henry laughed.

But Ianto looked thunderous.  _“You mean to say that my_ daughter _was pregnant when the Dragon Slayer attempted to kill her?”_

That brought the buoyant mood right back down again.

 _“That’s what Gareth told me,”_ Henry affirmed.  _“She’s about ten weeks along.”_

That had Ianto turning toward Henry.  _“Adam is yours, if he was the one who set the Dragon Slayer on Rowena.  You may do with him as you wish.”_

Henry gave a sharp nod in acknowledgment as the ritual words, _“So mote it be,”_ echoed across the communications link, Phillip among them.

 _“I’ve also spoken with Jack,”_ Ianto said, _“and they’re expecting H and G today.  That operation will be wrapped up shortly. And, Phillip…an old friend of ours ended up on Trafusis.”_

“Another reincarnation?” The ice mage wondered who it was this time.

_“That’s what I thought as well.  But no…just someone extremely long lived, with a very large, very green, alternate personality.”_

Phillip’s eyes widened in surprise.  “Banner?” he asked incredulously.

“How is that even possible?” Clint chimed in. 

“Wait,” Arthur said, “is this the same Bruce Banner who was the Avenger from the stories?  They called him the Hulk, didn’t they?”

Phillip was glad this connection was so well secured; he would have hated to have knowledge of Bruce Banner’s presence broadcasted to HYDRA.  They’d done enough experiments in their time with super-soldier serums, he would have hated if Banner fell into their hands.  The immortal was positive they would have been ecstatic at getting their hands on this particular version.

_“He doesn’t know how he’s lived this long.  He’s not immortal, though; he’s just extremely long-lived.  But he’s on Trafusis now.”_

Phillip would have to make contact.  He would love to get back in touch with an old friend.  And it called into question just who Sabrina had had as a contact there, not that she ever said anything.  Still, that was the nature of confidential informants: it wouldn’t do to get their identities out there, that was the fast way to put someone into danger. 

He also wondered if she’d even known who it was she was dealing with on Trafusis.

 _“Phillip, there’s one more thing you need to know,”_ his friend and father-by-mating said. 

The ice mage frowned slightly at Ianto’s tone.  “What is it?”

_“We discovered the reason why Detective Shraeger was targeted in the first place…she’s carrying around Patrick’s soul.”_

“Holy shit,” Clint exclaimed. 

That was Phillip’s reaction as well, only he didn’t say it out loud.  He’d never, in a million years, have thought that someday his own nephew would come back. Well, he hadn’t really…Casey Shraeger didn’t have any of Patrick’s memories.  It was just his soul.

“How did you find that out?” he finally was able to ask.

_“The man who tried to kill her confessed it all. Apparently, they were all on Earth looking into Torchwood and Patrick, because Shraeger and Walsh were curious.  That was when they ran into Dr Dorian…or Adam, as we believe he really is.”_

“HYDRA used that crystal to find the souls of their enemies, as well.”  That made too much sense.  “And now they’re cleaning them up.”

“But why now?” Clint wanted to know.  Then the proverbial lightbulb seemed to go off for him.  “Because we have the crystal now and HYDRA is worried we’re going to find us some allies.”

“Not that we would ever do that,” Arthur was outraged.  “These people deserve to live their own lives.”

Although Phillip could admit to himself that the idea was tempting.  To have Patrick back…and maybe Alice, the first one…and the rest of their SHIELD and Torchwood family…Daisy was still out there somewhere, as was so many others who had touched his life in the thousands of years he’d been alive.  To have any of them back…

Jack and Ianto had to have been tempted as well.  But he knew them, knew that they would be the same as he was: there would have been no way they would have disrupted another person’s life just to get a loved one back. 

They would never be like HYDRA.

 _“We’re going to head out,”_ Ianto said, interrupting Phillip’s thoughts.  _“We wanted to let you know what was going on.”_

“Thanks for that,” Phillip said gratefully.  “We’ll keep on here.  Although Petra Thorne has been extremely forthcoming, it really doesn’t have anything to do with what’s happening with Alyce or the detective.”

He really wanted to fill them in on everything, but he could tell that all three of them were itching to leave.  He couldn’t blame them; this was Alyce, the youngest of the Harkness-Jones children, and while she was highly competent there were things even she might not be able to handle.

Perhaps they should have let Merlin bring out her dragon form, after all…

_“We’ll contact you as soon as we have them back.”_

“We’ll hold you to that, Grandtad,” Arthur said.

Phillip waved goodbye to his daughter, who wasn’t very happy at that; she was calling for them both, and a lump rose in the immortal’s throat, knowing that she was far too young to understand what was happening, why her fathers and brother had just vanished from in front of her.

An arm went around his waist, and he leaned into his mate’s warmth, glad that Clint was there.  Nathan hugged him from the other side, and he let himself enjoy the closeness for a bit.

“As soon as this is over,” he murmured, as he watched Arthur shut down the comm, “we’re all going on vacation.  A family vacation.  I want to spend some time with my mate and children away from everything.”

“We could always go to Asgard,” Clint suggested.  “Thor’s always asking us to come and visit.”

That was true.  Phillip wouldn’t mind seeing their old friend once more. Thor didn’t much leave Asgard anymore, since he was now king.  The last time anyone had been there, it had been during his magical overload, and that had been a Torchwood scientist asking for assistance.

Not that anyone else would have elicited any other response from Loki but laughter.  That seemed to be the Trickster God’s response to anything that had to do with Phillip’s magic.

“Skylar would love that,” Nathan chuckled.  “And it’s only fair that he gets to meet another one of his childhood heroes.”

“Then it’s a plan,” Phillip decided. “Just the five of us.”

“We should probably go and report to the Empress these newest events,” Arthur cut in, looking genuinely bothered by the fact that he was interrupting their family time. 

Phillip stifled the sigh that had bubbled up in his chest. “You’re right.  Danielle needs to know about our suspicions, and what Thorne told us.”

A wicked smile crossed his nephew’s handsome features.  “And I can tell her just where she can stuff this Pendragon Protocol bollocks.”

That comment had Phillip laughing.  “I’m certainly looking forward to seeing that.”

 

 


	40. Chapter 40

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Unknown Location_ **

****

Casey groaned, consciousness flowing back in a surge of headache and coldness.

Even before opening her eyes, she cursed at the sheer stupidity of getting caught.

Glancing around, Casey took in her surroundings.  It was a bare room, no furniture, a single window high in one wall that let in just enough light to see by.  Not that there was anything to see; it was all damp walls and floor and ceiling, and nothing else at all.

Oh, there was Alyce, who was leaning against one of the walls, her once-pristine pink coat mussed and streaked with dirt.  She looked irritated, and Casey couldn’t blame her. 

“What the hell…?” she mumbled as she settled against another wall.

“We were drugged,” Alyce said, disgruntled.

Casey did recall feeling something hit her in the neck.  “Darted,” she grunted.  “I didn’t see who did it.”

“Neither did I.  And what bothers me the most was the dart actually penetrated my skin, and it shouldn’t have, so they were prepared for me being a Star Dragon.”

Yes, she could see where that would be bothersome to her. 

The coolness of the wall seemed to help the headache a little, even as Casey cringed a little at the dampness.  “Any idea where we are?”

Alyce shrugged.  “Nope,” she answered, popping the ‘p’.  “I only woke up a little bit before you did, and I’m a little too short to reach the window.  When you’re ready, I can boost you up.”

“That sounds like a plan.”  Casey regarded her companion.  “Why haven’t you changed form and gotten us out of this yet?”

“Because I can’t.”

The expression on Alyce’s face was just on the wrong side of really pissed off, and Casey realised it wasn’t at her at the same time the admission really struck her.  “What?”

Alyce shrugged a single shoulder.  “I don’t have my dragon form yet.” 

There was something in the tone of the words that Casey would have enquired about, if she didn’t already have other questions.  “What do you mean by that?”

“Not all of us are born with dragon forms,” Alyce sighed.  “It depends on which of our dads carried us.”

That…well, Casey supposed that made sense.  Still, it would have been useful if Alyce could have torn out of this cell…

“Besides,” her companion went on, “even if I could change, I doubt I could have done it in here without crushing you, and I like you too much to risk that.  So, the option would have been out anyway.”

Yeah, Casey didn’t want to get crushed.  She did smile at the admission of being liked, though.

“Walsh was disappointed when neither you nor Robyn volunteered to fly us to the Museum.”

“Why was that?”

“It’s just that your sister, Captain Harkness-Jones, flew him the first time, and he loved it.”

That had Alyce laughing.  “I bet she did.  Anwyn loves showing off.  She gets that from our Dad.”  She sobered.  “You didn’t fly with them?”

“I didn’t want to throw up all over your father.  That wouldn’t have been pretty.”

“It’s not for everyone, I admit.”

There was silence for a moment, letting Casey wallow in her thoughts for a second.  “It was Dorian,” she finally said, wanting to get that out in the open first.

“It was.  And I’m really afraid this is a trap.”

“Agreed.”

“And you know my Tad is going to walk right into it, to get to us.”

“Yeah, I was afraid to say it myself.”

“What I don’t understand,” Alyce confided, “is what Dorian’s angle is in all this.  Is he some sort of whacked out reincarnation working for HYDRA?  Or is he something else?  Does he have something to do with the Dragon Slayer? And just what does he have against my family?”

“And did he have that guy try to push me in front of that transport module?”

They were all excellent questions; questions they didn’t have answers to. 

But maybe they could work out some for themselves.

“I’m thinking,” the detective mused, “that Dorian was responsible for leaving that ring to be found…or else he certainly arranged it.  After all, he had the access to it.  He most likely set up that robbery in order to cover his tracks, just waiting for someone to come and ask about it.”

Alyce was nodding.  “Which means the ring was a trap to begin with, one obviously meant for Tad, since he’d have known what that sort of ring was, and if he’d been the one to find it then he would have researched it like you and Jason did.  Makes me think the two of you being involved wasn’t a part of the overall plan.”

“I’m willing to bet it wasn’t.” Casey shifted slightly on the cold concrete; her arse was getting numb.  “Walsh and I were expecting Torchwood to take over the investigation from the moment we found out it was your sister and her mate who’d been attacked.  I’m thinking that Dorian had been expecting the same thing.”

“And Torchwood would have, if this hadn’t been a family matter.  My brother-by-mating even took a temporary leave from Torchwood’s Directorship for the duration, even though my sister, Sabrina, was a Torchwood operative, and it would have been within Torchwood’s right to run things.  That’s not to say they aren’t doing their own thing…but Melinda would have been more focussed on HYDRA and that particular connection, and Henry and Rowena being targets…well, they aren’t Torchwood.”  She sighed.  “Neither is my nephew, Skylar, and the Dragon Slayer went after him, too.”

Casey shrugged, he shoulders dragging across the stone-like texture of the cell wall.  “Distractions, maybe?”

“Maybe.  But honestly, they made a mistake coming after our family like that.  We’re not going to stop until our vow has been fulfilled.”

She and Walsh had done a little research into Dragon Law when the case had been dropped on them, and they’d found out just who they were dealing with, and Casey understood what Alyce was saying.  A Vow of Vengeance was binding, to the death of either the target or the one who’s sworn the vow in the first place, unless there were extenuating circumstances.  She really pitied anyone who got on the wrong side of the Jones Clan; they had near-immortality on their side, and would chase their attackers until they were caught.

“Of course,” Casey pointed out, “it could be that whoever this is, has something against your family specifically.”

“Well, my Dad, Tad, Phillip, and Clint were all on the front lines during the last fight with HYDRA so, yeah…”  Her voice faded out a little, and something that Casey thought was realisation crossed her pretty features; in that moment, Alyce very closely resembled Professor Jones.  “We need to get out of here.”  She was on her feet quickly, stalking toward the door and examining it closely.

“What is it?”  Casey was concerned as she, herself, clambered upright, the change in altitude making her head pound even harder, in time with her heartbeat.

“We’re bait.”

Oh, Goddess…of course they were, because they both knew this was a trap, and Alyce knew her father well enough to realise he would step right into it.

If that was true, then everything that had happened – well, almost everything, and she didn’t lie to herself about knowing all the details, because she was certain she didn’t – had to do with the Jones Clan, then their kidnapping would have, as well. 

They were being used to draw at least Ianto Jones to the dragon’s enemy.  It was so bloody obvious.

Casey joined Alyce at the door, even as she was putting things together.  Whoever the hells Dorian was, it seemed as if he had something against the Star Dragons and their relations.  If the ring had been meant to lead Jones into some sort of trap, and hers and Walsh’s involvement had been a fluke…Dorian would have most likely attempted to take out Jones the moment the dragon had shown up at the British Museum. 

It was only her and her partner’s presence that had saved Jones and Anwyn from death.

And now, she and Alyce were being used as bait.

The door was inset, an automatic thing that would have slid open under some sort of control on the outside.  Alyce was scrabbling at the thin gap between door and wall with her fingertips, obviously hoping to gain some sort of grip on it, and Casey had to wonder if she really was strong enough to pry it open if she did manage to get enough of a grip on it. 

Alyce gave up quickly with a growl, and a swift kick to the bottom of the door.  “Damnit, I can’t get it open!”

“What about the window?” Casey suggested.

The young dragon nodded sharply.  “Let me give you that boost so you can get a look at it.”

Together, the pair of them moved to just beneath the high-set window, Alyce bending over and lacing her fingers together. 

Casey took the invitation, stepping into the clasped hands.  Apparently, dragons were pretty strong, since Alyce didn’t seem to have any problem hoisting her up. 

The window was small, with rusted bars criss-crossed over the opening.  Filthy glass was on the outside of the bars, and Casey stuck her fingers through a gap in the bars in order to wipe a section of glass clean enough to see through, grimacing at the filth even as she was pressing against the icky bars to peer through.

There was another building just beyond the window, with enough of a gap between them that the sunlight was able to penetrate, separated by a line of dirt about a foot wide that was spotted in places by old snow. 

That other building was red brick, a sheer rise with no windows visible in its surface.  There was no way to signal anyone in that structure to their plight, and when Casey grasped the bars and shook them roughly…while they might have been old-looking, they were still sturdy, and the material of their cell wall was solid.

“I take it that way is a bust?” Alyce commented as soon as Casey got done cursing their bad luck.

The detective hopped down lightly, thoroughly irritated with events.  She absolutely hated being in this position; a hostage to ensure someone else’s cooperation…even if that cooperation meant they were stepping into a trap.  “Even if the window wasn’t too small, there’s no way we’re going to be budging those bars.  We could break the glass and shout for help, but no one would hear.”

“I was afraid of that.”  The dragon sighed gustily.  “Looks like we’re going to have to try to overpower whoever comes for us, and hope we can get out before they decide deadly force is called for.”

Casey recalled just how much arse Alyce had kicked back on that road, and was once again impressed.  “Who taught you how to fight, anyway?  Because I want to ask them for lessons.”

“My brother, Clint.  He didn’t have his dragon form for about sixteen hundred years, so he learned to defend himself.  When I was old enough to learn, he was glad to teach me.  He calls the style, ‘Circus Parkour’, whatever that means.”

Casey really wanted to get more information on the whole being born without a dragon form thing, but figured it could wait.  Right now, their priority was getting out of wherever the hells they were, and bringing down Dorian and his cronies as quickly as possible. 

Walsh would do whatever he could to find her, and Casey knew her partner well enough by now to realise he would have contacted Jones and let him know about what had happened.  He’d been unconscious when their attackers had let slide the ‘Casey’s nieces’ comment, but Robyn hadn’t been, and she figured either of them would figure out that Dorian was behind the entire thing. 

“We can’t be that far from the museum,” she mused.  “I don’t think we’d have been taken offworld.”

“You’re right.  Dorian would have wanted us close, because he’d want us within reaching distance just in case proof of life was demanded…and knowing my Tad, he’ll do just that.”

Casey considered that.  She was gratified that Alyce seemed to think she’d be included in that proof of life statement, and a part of her – a very small part – had to wonder if this was because she was carrying around the soul of someone Jones had once known. 

But no…she discarded that immediately.  Ianto Jones had shown that he truly cared, and not just because Casey might have once been a dear friend of his.  Just his insistence on not forcing that soul out and destroying her own sense of self had been enough to convince her of that. 

“It’s a trap, though,” Casey pointed out; somewhat redundantly, she believed.  “If they knew you were a Star Dragon right away…”

Alyce bit her lower lip.  “I know.  But that won’t stop Tad or anyone else.  Still, our best bet would be to escape.”

“Or…we could just sit here, cooling our heels, and wait for rescue.”

That comment earned Casey a sharp smile.  “Not our style.”

Casey gave Alyce a smile that matched the other woman’s.  “Damned right.”

 

**********

 

They didn’t have long to wait before anyone showed up.

Alyce was the one who heard the approaching footsteps outside, and it made Casey wonder just how sensitive a dragon’s hearing was because there was no way the detective would’ve had the first clue without her new friend warning her first. 

Still, with a silent nod to Alyce, Casey and her cellmate stepped back, away from the door, knowing that whoever was coming would have expected them to make some sort of move once the cell was opened.  They’d decided on a different course of action, one that would lull their captors into a false sense of security.

The door slid open with a loud clank, and a tall, rather large, man stood on the other side, a bulbous-looking blaster pointed toward the pair.  With a practiced eye Casey knew that the gun would make rather large holes in either of them, if the man managed to get a shot off.

Alyce didn’t let him.

Moving faster than Casey could compute, the Star Dragon planted her feet against the floor and leapt toward the man, one shoulder taking the man in the chest and a hand wrapping around the wrist holding the gun, squeezing.  Judging from the man’s sharp gasp, the grasp was tighter than he was expecting, and he dropped the gun from nerveless fingers.

Casey, no slouch in the speed department either, had the gun in her own hand and aimed at the man Alyce was grappling with.

Before the detective could order their captor to stop, Alyce had kneed him in the groin with an audible crunch.  The man would have screamed if the dragon hadn’t slammed her forehead into his, knocking him thoroughly unconscious.

Alyce let him fall to the ground, a pleased smirk on her pretty face.  “Sorted.”

Casey moved forward, stepping around the prone figure and peering into the corridor beyond.  “You could have left something for me,” she groused, motioning that it was clear.

“Sorry,” Alyce said, not sounding apologetic at all.  “Which way?”

The hallway stretched out in both directions, bare walls not giving Casey any sort of clue as to how to get out of the building.  Doors like the one that had been on their cell lined each wall; some were open, but a few were closed, and she had to wonder if there were other prisoners besides themselves inside.

She really wanted to check, and said so.

Alyce agreed.  “My parents taught me that you never left anyone behind if you could help it.”

“I like your parents,” Casey commented quietly, choosing to go right.

“They’re alright,” Alyce chuckled, following, “unless you catch them being all lovey-dovey with each other, and then it’s just a little bit gross.”

“That’s all parents though.”

“And siblings.  Anwyn likes to complain about Dad and Tad, but she’s just the same way with her mate, Gwaine.  And don’t get me started with my other brothers and sisters who are mated…”

The first door they stopped at had a small keypad next to it, and the green light on it indicated that it was unlocked.  Since any other prisoners wouldn’t be in an unlocked room, Casey bypassed it and headed toward the next.  Alyce must have agreed, because she went along without a word.

The other doors were also unlocked, and while Casey’s curiosity was beginning to poke at her to check the rooms out, she ignored it.  They didn’t have the time; she knew someone would realise they were loose fairly quickly, and getting out of wherever the hells they were was the priority, especially since she was convinced that she and Alyce were the bait to a trap for Second Jones, one that the dragon would have been more than willing to step into if it meant finding them.

And yes, she was including herself in that, because Alyce had convinced her that Ianto Jones would, indeed, never leave anyone behind.  It didn’t have anything to do with the soul she was carrying around with her.  It was because the dragon was a sincerely good being.

The corridor ended in another door, this one without the keypad, and with an actual doorknob.  Alyce rested her hand on it, glancing toward Casey, who held the gun at the ready, nodding in time with the Star Dragon’s raised fingers as they counted down.

On one, Alyce jerked the door open.

Casey was around the jamb in a heartbeat, blaster held up and aimed in one direction, and then the other, sighting down the other hallway that was just beyond the door.

This one was carpeted, as opposed to the bare plascrete of the one they had just left.  The carpet was a pale, olive green, almost a military shade, and there was a faint scent of damp on the air that had Alyce wrinkling her nose. 

“What is this place?” she murmured.

“No idea,” Casey answered.  “But it’s pretty much deserted, looks like.”

“Let’s hope it stays that way.”

There was no need for her to agree aloud on _that_ score.

She chose right again, just because, and together they moved on silent feet toward the end of the hallway.  The walls were painted a dirty sort of beige, and there were patches of mould along the baseboards, which explained the smell.  It was obvious this place had been either abandoned or hadn’t been cared for.

Not for the first time, Casey wondered just where they’d been taken.  London Island was a metropolitan area, with its fancy areas as was as slums, and if she had to guess she would think the latter was where they were.  That narrowed things down a little, but she really wasn’t all that familiar with London Island, being a Lunar resident, and she figured that Alyce was the same, only from somewhere else.  Casey knew that was Earth, a place called Ddraig Llyn somewhere in the north of Wales, but neither she nor her partner had had the opportunity to visit.

Getting out had to be their priority.  Then they could work out just where they were.

It was far too quiet for Casey’s liking.  Surely there would have been some sort of sound, such as traffic or flyers overhead?  Instead, there was almost an expectant hush inside the building, as if the place was holding its breath. 

If a building could breathe, that was.

There was no door at the end of the corridor; instead, it opened up into a large room, bare-floored, with tall concrete columns evenly spaced about the area and tiny windows in the thick stone walls.  Dust danced in the thin beams of sunlight that streamed through the windows, not really illuminating much and lending the room its own sense of gloom.  It was a dead end, and Casey was just about to suggest they head back up the hallway when movement caught her eye.

A man was standing in the shadow of one of the columns, leaning against it insouciantly, as if he was expecting them.

Casey realised as she was bringing her blaster up to cover him that he was, indeed, expecting them.

“Hello, ladies,” the man greeted jovially.  He was dressed in a high-necked jumper and black trousers, with no visible weapons.  His hair was brown and thinning, and as he stepped into one of the faint beams of light, Casey could see his eyes were dark and laughing.  He had a bit of a paunch, but the detective didn’t fool herself into thinking the man was in any way out of shape.

Alyce actually hissed at him. 

“Now, that’s not a very friendly greeting,” the man chided lightly. 

“You expect me to be _friendly_?” Alyce growled, her words gaining a rumbling undertone that drove home the fact that, despite her not having a dragon form, Alyce Harkness-Jones was very much the daughter of her fathers.  “After what you’ve done?”

“I take it you know this guy?” Casey asked.

“His name is Garrett Paxton,” her friend answered.  “But he’s actually the reincarnation of a man named John Garrett…also known as the Clairvoyant, who was responsible for a lot of grief to my brother-by-mating, Phillip, and his original SHIELD team.”

The words of an alert came back to Casey.  Garrett Paxton, aka John Garrett, was presently wanted by both Imperial Security and Torchwood; she’d seen the BOLO on him not that long ago.  He’d been wanted for theft and kidnapping, from what she could recall.

Oh, and he was also with HYDRA.

Garrett smirked.  “How is dear old Phil, anyway?  I was really impressed with his work at the Palace.  We had no idea he was that powerful.  He really put a dent in our plans, I must say.”

Alyce didn’t respond. Instead, she said, “Casey?”

“Yep?”

“You can shoot him if you want to.”

Usually, the last thing Casey would do was shoot an unarmed perpetrator.  However, if what the alert said was true, this man was possibly one of the most dangerous people she would ever meet.  Besides, she was a good shot, and she could go to wound…

“If you don’t want to,” Alyce offered, “I’ll be glad to do it for you.  Garrett dying would fulfil a couple of Vengeance Vows, and I’m sure Phillip wouldn’t mind if I did it for him.”

Garrett laughed out loud at that, a huge, boisterous sound that came from the belly and echoed around the empty room. “Considering he killed me the first time, I’m sure Phil would be happy to spread the love around a little.”

Casey had to admit, for someone who was being threatened with death, Garrett was acting as if he didn’t have a care in the universe.  That attitude had every single one of her alarm bells ringing, and she turned back toward the hallway, just to make sure they were still alone.

They were, which made the alarm bells ring even louder.

“This isn’t right.”

Alyce stared at her and then, as if suddenly figuring out what Casey’s very thoughts, her eyes widened.  “You’re right.  Why would Garrett meet us here alone?”

“That’s because,” Garrett answered, the laugh ending as quickly as it had begun, “you two aren’t in control here.”  He flung his arms out wide.  “Go ahead and shoot, Detective Shraeger,” he taunted her.  “I dare you to.”

That, in itself, told Casey more than she wanted to know. 

She checked the blaster’s charge.

It was empty.

Casey wanted to curse.  It had been a set-up all along. 

“They wanted us to escape,” she told Alyce, although her eyes didn’t leave Garrett. “The blaster’s not charged.  They wanted us to come here.”

“Well,” Garrett said, “here, or at the other end of the corridor.  Either place would have been fine.  We just let the hidden cameras follow you and here I am…the lucky one to be here when you got out.”

Of _course_ there were cameras.  Casey felt like an idiot for not taking that into consideration.

Garrett lowered his arms, stuffing his hands in his pockets.  “You can show yourself,” he called out to the empty room.

There was a sudden shimmer from one of the darker corners, and a man suddenly appeared as if from nowhere.

 _Magic,_ Casey thought in disgust.

The man was human, fairly nondescript, with dark hair and wearing anachronistic, metallic armour.  He held a sword, a long thing that glimmered in the gloom, and he was resting it across his shoulder as if he was relaxed.  But Casey knew he was anything but.

This man was a predator.

And she’d seen him before…in an artist’s rendition of the man who’d attacked the Morgan-Jones family on the Moon, drawn from Abraham’s eyewitness account of the attack.

It was Sir Guy de Marigny.

It was the Dragon Slayer.

Judging from the sound that came from the dragon standing beside her, Casey realised that Alyce knew it, too.

 

 


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meant to have this up a little earlier today, but then "The Last Beacon" was released....

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Trafusis_ **

****

The Doctor tapped his foot impatiently, wanting to get going.

But Jack wasn’t there.

He hadn’t shown up.

Which was seriously worrying.

The Doctor knew that Ianto’s safety meant everything to Jack.  Nothing would have stood in his way of making it to the TARDIS.

Something was wrong.

Something had happened.

With that thought, the Doctor left the TARDIS and headed back toward Doctor Banner’s house, his eyes searching for any sign of the wayward immortal.

There were crowds bustling along the streets, but no Jack.

No, this wasn’t right.

Jack had been adamant about getting to Ianto, to help him in whatever way he could.  Jack wouldn’t have gone anywhere except the TARDIS. 

Unless he saw something…

Or was waylaid.

The Doctor was quite worried about his favourite immortal.  And yes, despite his friendship with Phillip, Jack was still the Time Lord’s favourite.  Nothing less than death would have kept Jack from getting to the TARDIS…which was what he was afraid of, that Jack had been ambushed some way.  But that would entail someone being aware of his presence on Trafusis, and while Jack could be a bit flamboyant he’d been almost quiet since they’d arrived. 

Could someone have recognised him, and decided to get a bit of revenge?  It would have been the greatest coincidence in the universe if that was what had occurred, and the Doctor flatly refused to believe in coincidences. 

It just left the question…what had happened to keep Jack from joining him in the TARDIS?

As he strode toward the house, the Doctor noticed that Jem wasn’t in his usual seat on the step; instead, the man was a few feet away, speaking with someone dressed in a patchwork outfit of tunic and trousers, a long queue of hair down their back.  The Time Lord didn’t give them a second glance as he took the steps in a single bound, ignoring his name being shouted out as he yanked the door open and strode inside.

He made a turn into the study, and with his luck he did catch both Banner and Cadi there, enjoying what looked like tea and chatting about something inconsequential in the Doctor’s opinion.  Both of them looked up when he came into the room, Cadi’s expression confused and Banner’s welcoming.

“You’re back quickly,” Cadi greeted.  “Did Dad get to Tad in time?”

“Jack never arrived at the TARDIS,” he answered somewhat bluntly, but then the Doctor had the distinct impression that time was of the essence.  He couldn’t have explained why if asked.

Banner’s brows drew downward.  “But he left just after you did.  He was going straight to your TARDIS.”

Cadi was suddenly on her feet, her face going pale.  “Something’s happened to him.”

The Doctor nodded, gratified that she was feeling the same sense of urgency as he, himself, was.  “He never would have taken a detour, not when he was so determined to get back to Ianto.  Even if I _do_ have a time machine that could get him there before we actually left here.”

“That’s what I was gonna tell you when you blew past me,” Jem’s voice came from the doorway. 

The Doctor wasn’t going to apologise, but he got the impression that it wasn’t required just from Jem’s tense stance.  “What?”

“That fella I was speaking to,” Jem explained, “was just tellin’ me that Cap’n Harkness got stabbed and carried off not too long ago.”

“Shit,” Cadi swore.  She followed that up in several other languages. 

“It gets worse.  Said the one who stabbed the Cap’n was G herself.”

“They weren’t supposed to arrive until later,” Banner protested, rising from his chair.  “At least, that’s what my contacts claimed.”

“They must have gotten it wrong.”  Oh, this was bad.  If H and G had had warning that they were waiting for them…the Doctor was positive they wouldn’t treat Jack particularly well at all, especially if the pair of criminals were aware of the reason Jack was actually on Trafusis.  Plus, it wasn’t a secret anymore that Jack was immortal.  This could get very ugly, very fast.

It gave the Doctor a couple of flashbacks to the Year that Never Was, although what the Master had done was one thousand percent worse than what a couple of criminals could do.

He hoped.

“We need to find Dad,” Cadi exclaimed.  “There’s no telling what they’ll do to him, if they know we’re here for them.”

“Trafusis is a large place,” Banner said.  “I’ll send some of my contacts out, but there’s no guarantee, and if they got the arrival time wrong in the first place…”

“We won’t need to do that.” 

“What do you mean, Doctor?” Jack’s daughter demanded.

“Your Dad still wears his wrist strap, and it’s only one of two Vortex Manipulators out there anymore, and since River isn’t here it won’t matter.  Even though it doesn’t work, there’s still time travel tech in that thing.  I should be able to use the TARDIS to track it to wherever they have Jack.”

“And what if they’ve gotten rid of it?” Cadi asked. Her hands lifted, and she acted as if she was going to wring them in distress, but she must have realised what she was about to do and stopped before she began. 

The Doctor didn’t want to even think that, but it was a possibility, and he admitted as much.  “Still, it’s a chance we need to take.”

She nodded fiercely. “Then let’s go and save my Dad.”

“I’ll come with you,” Banner volunteered.  “Adrastea is in school, and Jem will be here in case we’re gone longer than that.”

“Yeah, Doc,” the watcher agreed readily.  “I’ll look after the sprog if you’re delayed.”

Banner thanked the man as the three of them left the house, the Doctor leading the way toward the TARDIS, worry swirling around him like his own coat tails did in a breeze.  While he was definitely concerned for Jack, he still could recall what had happened with the situation with the Master, back during that mess with the Toclafane, and how scarred the immortal had come out at the end of it.  The Doctor himself had been the same way, and he’d been unable to understand why Ianto had decided to fulfil his Vow of Vengeance against his fellow Time Lord.  Now, with the distance of centuries, he could now see the need to do that sort of thing when a loved one was injured or killed, and while he did try to eschew violence in any way he could, he knew he would no longer stand between the Jones Clan and the fulfilment of their laws. 

He really didn’t want to go back to Ianto and tell him that Jack had vanished while under the Doctor’s ‘protection’.  He liked the dragon too much to inflict that sort of pain on him. 

So, he would have to go and drag Jack out of wherever he’d gotten himself kidnapped to, because the last thing he wanted was an angry dragon regenerating him.

Not that Ianto would do that, of course.  The Doctor was positive that his friend wouldn’t take Jack’s getting killed and kidnapped out on him.  There was no way to have prevented it, except that he’d been in a hurry and had thought that Jack had been right behind him, when the immortal hadn’t been.  It really wasn’t anyone’s fault, and the Time Lord was certain Ianto would see that.

However, there was no way he was going to go back to Ddraig Llyn with the news that Jack was missing. 

Nope.

The TARDIS welcomed him as he stepped over her threshold.  The Doctor could feel her gladness at seeing Cadi, and her curiosity over Doctor Banner.  There was also worry for Jack, which was understandable; the TARDIS had always had a soft spot for Jack Harkness, going all the way back to the Time Lord’s Ninth persona, innately understanding just how close Jack had come to filling the lonely spaces within his then-personality. 

There had been a couple of times that the Doctor had wondered what would have happened if he’d taken Jack as a lover.  But then he’d think about just how important Jack had become to the Universe, and smile at the reminiscence, happy for his friend and grateful that he hadn’t managed to completely damage the immortal by his Tenth incarnation’s lack of acceptance.

“This…is your time machine?” Banner asked in awe.  “She’s…alive, isn’t she?”

The Doctor couldn’t help but beam at the man’s observation.  “Yes, she is.”  He practically ran to the console, darting about, flipping switches and mentally cajoling the TARDIS into helping him find Jack.

Not that she needed much encouragement; the TARDIS adored Jack.

The TARDIS was very curious about Banner, and it pinged through the Doctor’s mind like sunlight sparkling on water.  He could practically _hear_ her asking about the man, and as the Doctor worked he encouraged her to ask Banner himself.

Because, he was absolutely certain she could make herself understood.

Ever since she’d received the blast of dark magic at the Library, the TARDIS had been showing signs of even greater sentience that she previously had presented.  The Doctor had been very pleased about it at first, but there was that nagging worry that the magic would damage her.  She obviously read that in him, and she soothed him, her joy at being able to communicate so clearly like sweet bells across his frontal lobe. 

“She can talk to me?” Banner’s awe had morphed into pleased surprise.

“A little,” the Doctor answered, twirling the gauge that would extend the temporal sensors out over the entire city, trying to connect to Jack’s Vortex Manipulator.  He gave the scientist a grin. “She’s getting better at it.”

“The TARDIS is wonderful,” Cadi declared.  “She’s a very beautiful lady. I can understand why Dad loves her so much.”

“Your father used to work on her all the time,” the Time Lord said as he worked.  “Jack’s responsible for the extrapolator shielding she has now.  I know she misses him tinkering with her.  Maybe after this is all over, I’ll invite him in to have a go at her Chameleon Circuit.  He was always wanting to work on it, but I quite like her current shape.”  He caressed her console, and the purr that the TARDIS gave him had his grin settling into a fond smile.

“He’d love that,” Cadi agreed.  “And, it appears the TARDIS feels the same way.”

From the glow that was suddenly bathing them all, the Doctor agreed.

The console pinged, and the Doctor practically jumped over to the monitor.  “And there he is!”

“You’ve found him?” Cadi joined him.

“Did you doubt me?” The Doctor pouted.

“Never you,” she assured him.  “But the ones who took Dad…those people I doubt.”

That assuaged the small bit of hard feeling the Time Lord had been experiencing.  “That makes sense.”  A sudden thought came to him.  “After we’ve beaten HYDRA, how would you feel about travelling with me?”

Cadi started.  “Are…are you sure?”  There was a thread of hope in her voice.

“Absolutely.  You’d make a wonderful companion.”

“Even though I’m a wanted criminal?”

“Your Dad was a conman when he joined me and Rose.”

“Point.”  The joy that was radiating from her was only matched by what was coming from the TARDIS.

It looked as if his going to pick up Clara would be delayed a little while longer.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t have the time, after all.

“Now, let’s go and see about rescuing your Dad, shall we?”

“Yes, let’s.”

 

 


	42. Chapter 42

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Imperial Throneworld_ **

****

“I still don’t see why it has to be me.”  Merlin was aware that he was whining, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

Danielle, while being so much younger than him, had the same expression on her face that his Mum had gotten when Merlin had been a child, and was being particularly stroppy.  “It’s because I trust you.”

“But there are others – “

“Rory is still young,” the Empress pointed out, “and Lisa doesn’t have the training.  I don’t know Owen Harper, even though I am aware that Jack and Ianto trust him; and also, he isn’t a wizard; he’s a theorist, even if he’s a very good one.  And do you honestly think Nicole is going to want to be away from her father anytime in the near future?”

“Too fucking right,” Nicole piped up, from the sofa where she and Prince Joshua were seated, reading a book together, the little boy nestled in her arms.  It was way too cute for words, and Merlin wished he had some sort of imaging device, so he could take a picture.

“You said a bad word,” Joshua pointed out.

“I did,” she agreed, “and while you’re too young to use that sort of language yet, when you’re older you’ll learn that there are times when bad words are the only ones that work.”

“Alright,” he accepted it with all the solemnity of a six-year-old learning an important life lesson.

“That’s not really a lesson I want my son to learn yet,” David said mildly.  He was at the desk, doing some work on the official statement that Danielle would be making later that day.  They were only waiting for the results from the questioning of Petra Thorne to finalise the script.

The Imperial family had taken up residence in the rooms at the Playground that Steve had long ago been assigned, when he’d become Grand Master.  They weren’t as opulent as what they were used to, but all three of them seemed perfectly happy.  It would be a while before they could go back to their home; it would most likely be at least months before the Palace was repaired, and longer for the newly heightened security measures to be put in place.

Until then, the family was staying where Steve could keep an eye on them.  Not that Merlin blamed Steve for being overprotective; after all, it had been a close call, and if not for Phillip…yeah, Merlin could understand it.

“It’ll take weeks to get to Trafusis,” Merlin tried to argue.  “And I don’t want to be away from my family that long, not with the HYDRA threat still out there.”

“We’ve already worked that out,” Danielle said serenely.  “The Imperial Strike Vessel _Phoenix Rising_ is within three days of Trafusis, and they have transmat capability.  You can leave straight from Hubworld with the rest of the team Melinda is assembling.”

Merlin was so very tempted to use the exact same word Nicole had, but David, being a low-level telepath – it aided in his Inhuman ability to appear invisible to people – glared at him as if he’d been able to see right into the wizard’s brain and discover his need to be cursing up a storm.

He knew when he was beaten.  He just didn’t have to like it.

“Merlin,” the Empress said, standing.  “I understand.  I really do.  The Jones Clan is in the midst of their fight, and you’re a part of that.  But I really need you on Trafusis.  We’ve long known that things aren’t exactly stable there; Torchwood dug up a slave trading ring there not all that long go. I need someone who can take care of themselves and the other members of their team, as well as look for any sort of magical threats that might be present.  I wouldn’t even dream of asking you to go if there was anyone else who could handle this sort of thing.”

Merlin’s shoulders slumped.  She was right.  But he still didn’t have to like it. 

There was a knock on the door, and Danielle called for whoever it was to come in.  It was a lower-level Shieldsman, looking sombre even though he was smiling slightly.  “I’m sorry to disturb Your Imperial Majesties, but Directors Coulson and Pendragon are asking for an audience.  Clint and Nathan Jones-Coulson are with them.”

“Please, let them in,” Danielle requested. 

The Shieldsman bowed, and then ushered the four in.  Merlin’s hearts thumped a little harder at their solemn expressions, and he just knew something must have happened to put all of them in that sort of mood.

“What is it?” Danielle asked, also recognising that everything wasn’t fine.  “Did Thorne not give you what you needed?”

“She’s being quite cooperative,” Phillip answered, obviously being the one elected as spokesperson for the group.  “Although she denies anything about Persephone Corporation…and I’m inclined to believe her.”

Merlin wondered what else had happened, if Thorne had really been that cooperative.  He wanted to ask, but the Empress continued talking.  He’d have to wait.

“So, we’re dealing with either another HYDRA operative on Trafusis who was working behind Thorne’s back,” Danielle surmised, “or she’s being set up just like Derek Anthony was.”

“Which do you think?” David asked, setting his stylus down and paying full attention.

“Personally?” Phillip sighed.  “I think she’s being set up.  HYDRA has proved to be perfectly able in getting rid of those who fail them.  I think we can assume this has been set up for a while now.”

“Like the fake identification Thorne was given,” Arthur added.  “They didn’t care about her, even if she had succeeded in her plan to take down both the Empire and Torchwood.”

Merlin stood and joined his mate, glad for his nearness, the warmth of him penetrating his tunic.  “Then this was a strike against both the family and the Institute?”

That made sense.  HYDRA wouldn’t have been able to take over completely as long as Torchwood was intact.  But the question was…how had they thought to achieve that?

Danielle asked the question at the very same time Merlin thought it.  “And how was killing us going to damage Torchwood?” she added.

The expression on Arthur’s face had Merlin giving his mate a double-take.  “Through the Pendragon Protocol,” he answered.

Merlin started.  “Excuse me…the _what_?”

“These…well, I would use the term idiots,” Arthur drawled, “but that would be construed as insulting the Imperial family.  But, apparently, Empress Juliana thought it would be a really good idea to name me Emperor in case something happened to the Imperial line.”

Merlin’s jaw hit the proverbial floor.  That…that was completely inconceivable, because Juliana had known exactly how Arthur felt about that sort of thing!

“And,” Arthur went on, “Phillip, as well as my grandparents, were aware of it and didn’t seem to think it important to tell me.”

That earned Merlin’s immortal uncle-by-mating a serious side-eye.  Phillip simply sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “I told you: we were under Imperial order not to do so, or else I’m sure Jack and Ianto would have said something to you a long time ago.”

“The question,” Danielle cut in, her voice implacable, “is how you found out about it?”

“Thorne knew,” Phillip answered.  “HYDRA’s plan had been for Thorne to plant the bomb and frame me for it.  So, when everyone was killed and the Protocol put into effect, it would look as if Torchwood had made a play to take over the Empire and to put one of their own on the throne.”

“That…is actually quite genius,” David said, sounding almost admiring.  “Machiavellian…but genius.”

“And it would have worked,” Danielle shook her head, “if Phillip hadn’t come out as the hero of the incident.”

“HYDRA hadn’t been counting on that,” Arthur affirmed.  “Apparently, they knew about Phillip’s magic, but not how powerful he truly is.”

“To be fair,” Phillip sighed, “I didn’t know how powerful I was, either.”

“Did Thorne happen to tell you how she found out about the Protocol?” the Empress enquired.  “Because, only a handful of people knew about it.”

“She said it was her HYDRA contact, a human male calling himself Caesar,” Arthur answered.  “She says she was approached by this man on Trafusis, and is willing to give us a sketch of him.” 

“But how could this Caesar person have found out?” Merlin asked.  “It couldn’t have been through magic; the entire Palace has been warded, and I check the wards every time I’m here.”  He was the one who’d done the original warding, in point of fact, but he didn’t think he needed to bring that up.

“Danielle,” Phillip said, “just who knew about it?  I know you did, as did Steve and your mother…Jack and Ianto and I did…”

“I did,” Clint spoke up.  He’d moved to the sofa, where he’d sat himself down next to Nicole and was busy with a Crown Prince who’d crawled into his lap.  “But that was because Phillip wasn’t happy about it and complained.”

Phillip managed not to let the embarrassment of sharing confidential material with his mate show; however, the tips of his ears had gone red. 

“I think that slip can be excused,” Danielle laughed.  “You really were quite peeved about it, as I recall.   Besides, I trust Clint.”

“I knew,” David volunteered.  “And I would assume the late Empress Juliana’s Consort did as well.”

Merlin frowned.  No one really knew who Danielle’s father was; at the time, the then-Empress Juliana had said that the man had wanted to remain anonymous.  Rumours had abounded about whoever her mysterious lover was, but no one had ever come forward, even after Juliana had died so quickly.

“I…”  Phillip faded out, confusion flickering in his pale eyes.  “I never met him.  Juliana told me that he didn’t want anyone to know who he was, and he never took on any sort of duty in the Court, as far as I knew.  I’m not certain why.”

Danielle was staring at him, surprised.  “She never told you?  Uncle Phillip, I would have sworn she would have.  There wasn’t anyone she trusted more than you.”  It was a testament to how shocked she was that she’d fallen back on calling the immortal ‘Uncle’.

“No, she never did.  I respected her decision; it was her own private business.  She did tell me that your father didn’t want to have that sort of spotlight shown on him.  I…got the distinct impression that he might have already been married, and didn’t want the scandal.”

“No, that wasn’t it.  My father wanted Mother to step aside, to give up the Empire for him, and she wouldn’t do it.”

“Whereas,” David drawled, “I love Danielle so much I’m willing to share her with the Empire.”

The current Empress chuckled fondly.  “Yes, I know you feel I actually have two spouses: you, and the Imperial Throne.  It’s the ultimate in polyamorous relationships.”

“That…was incredibly selfish of your father,” Merlin commented.  He knew, if Arthur would have been forced to accept the Throne through this ridiculous Pendragon Protocol, he never would have given Arthur up for anything, simply because he _understood_.  He’d lived through Arthur’s rule of Camelot, and had been satisfied with being with Arthur when he’d been forced to take a Queen, to ensure the royal line.  Merlin had been blessed that Guinevere had also understood, and had been willing to let Merlin share Arthur’s bed, while Arthur had gladly let her take Lancelot as her own lover.  Circumstances had actually brought the four of them closer together, and they often rallied round each other, supporting each other through everything.

Guinevere and Lancelot had been just as heartbroken when Arthur had fallen at Camlann. 

“It was,” Danielle admitted.  “Mother had been born to run the Empire, and she knew her duty and, in fact, enjoyed it very much.”

“She was an excellent Empress,” Arthur said, “except for this Pendragon Protocol bollocks.”

Danielle waved a hand at him.  “Yes, yes…I get it.  I’ll drop the Protocol, Arthur.  But you have to admit, you would make a wonderful Emperor.”

“I have to admit no such thing!”

Merlin couldn’t help the snort that he let out at Arthur’s tone.  “Yeah, you would, you know.  Make a wonderful Emperor, I mean.”  Then he grinned as something occurred to him.  “That would mean I’d get the pretty crown instead of Guinevere!”

Arthur rolled his eyes.  “You’d look ridiculous, Merlin.”

“It wouldn’t be the first hat you ever made me wear, and it would be prettier than that monstrosity you had made for me, back when I was your servant.”  It truly had been a monstrosity: fluffy and red and with an enormous feather in it that had kept falling forward and tickling his nose.

His teasing had the effect on Arthur that he’d hoped; his mate was relaxing a bit, the strain from his shoulders and the hand that was resting on Excalibur’s hilt was fading.  “You are a prat,” Arthur said affectionately, realising just what Merlin was doing.

“Clotpole.”

“What’s a clotpole?” Joshua asked innocently.

Clint chortled, hugging the little boy tightly.  “It’s a really old word meaning sweetheart.”

Phillip was shaking his head, eyes twinkling, at his mate’s response.  “In Arthur and Merlin’s case, yes…that’s exactly what it means.”

Danielle was waggling a finger at both Arthur and Merlin.  “You will be explaining that to him when he’s much older, because I won’t have my son accidentally insulting someone because he thinks he’s giving them a cute pet name.”

Merlin laughed, resting his head on his mate’s shoulder, which was also shaking in mirth.  “No, let’s start a new meaning for it, shall we?” the wizard suggested.  “Because Uncle Phillip is right…that’s what it means to us.”

Arthur’s arm snaked around Merlin’s waist.  “He’s right.  But let’s not have to explain the other things we call each other, alright?”

“Let’s not,” Danielle agreed, smiling. 

Then her face turned solemn.  “I think we’re going to have to go and talk to my father.”

“He’s still living then?” Phillip asked.

“Yes, and he’s right here on Throneworld.  In fact, Uncle Phillip…you know him.”

That earned her a raised eyebrow from the immortal.

“His name is Peyton Redmond.”

 

 


	43. Chapter 43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Went to see "Infinity War"...damnit. Why do these Marvel movies mess with me so badly?

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_London Island_ **

**_Earth_ **

****

Henry stepped off the transmat, and the first people he saw were Robyn and Detective Walsh…who looked very much like his brother-by-mating. 

It wasn’t as much as a surprise to him, really.

He was aware of the theories going around about genetic multiplicity, and the Doctor’s own temporal theories, so seeing someone who resembled Clint didn’t shock him, as it had other members of his family. 

There were subtle differences.  Detective Walsh looked a little older, and his eyes were a shade lighter.  He didn’t quite have the breadth of shoulders that Clint did, but then Walsh had never taken up the bow and hadn’t gained the same musculature that Henry’s brother had.  Plus, his grip when he shook hands was human-normal, not the warmth of a dragon in human guise, and had an entirely different set of callouses on fingers and palm.

Robyn ran to Ianto, hugging her father tightly.  “I’m so sorry, Tad,” she murmured into his chest.

The patriarch wrapped his own arms around her.  “There’s no need to apologise, sweetheart.  Your sister wouldn’t want you to feel guilty about this.”

“Can’t help it.”

Anwyn embraced the pair of them.  “You did what you had to so, Sis.  We’ll get them back.”

Robyn stepped away from them, wiping her eyes.  Then her gaze dropped to Ianto’s waist, where the proverbial elephant in the room hung from the dragon’s belt.

Henry hated that thing with a passion he couldn’t ever remember having for an inanimate object before; not even the gun that had killed him the first time, setting off his immortality.

“Tad?” she asked uncertainly, looking vaguely ill.

“It’s needed now,” Ianto said, voice strong and without a doubt to be heard.  His hand rested on the sword’s hilt, plain and leather-wrapped, ancient and worn, the slightest glimmer of pain showed in his eyes and Henry sincerely doubted that anyone would have seen it if they hadn’t been looking.

Henry had thought they were going directly to Earth, but Ianto had made a detour to Hubworld for the…thing.  When he’d approached Melinda May, Torchwood’s Second had given the dragon such a glare, but she’d accompanied Ianto to the Archives, in order to dig the weapon up out of the deepest part of the Hoard, from where it had been left ever since Jack and Ianto had come to Hubworld almost three thousand years ago.

Henry hadn’t known about its existence.

Melinda had called it the Dragon Killer.

If he hadn’t already been acutely aware that evil did indeed exist, Henry would have not hesitated to name that sword the most evil thing he’d ever seen.  Of course, he hadn’t seen the Darkhold, but he was certain the sword would have given that book a run for its money. 

It stank of evil, and the immortal really didn’t have a sense of that sort of thing.  It was just that evident that the sword shouldn’t exist, that it had been bathed in so much blood that it craved more. 

How Ianto could even be touching it, Henry had no idea. 

“That…it’s not _right_ , Tad,” Robyn stammered. 

“No, it’s not,” Ianto answered darkly.  “But this is the time for it to be used once more.”

“Is that…?”

“Yeah,” Anwyn answered harshly, although Robyn did seem to realise that the tone wasn’t aimed toward her. 

“What is that…thing?” Detective Walsh was giving the blade a side-eye, as if he could also sense the miasma of darkness about it.

“This is the Dragon Killer,” Ianto replied.  “It’s the sword that slaughtered my birth family, after the First Crusade…and it was the sword wielded by Sir Guy de Marigny.  I think it’s about time it feasted on its original owner’s blood.”

“That is really gross.”

That comment seemed to shake Ianto out of his moodiness, and he gave the detective a smirk.  “Yes, it is.  Pardon me for feeling a bit bloodthirsty.”

“It’s not you,” Henry shivered slightly.  “It’s the sword.  It might have been just steel at one point, but not anymore.”

“You’re not the first person to make that observation,” Ianto confirmed. 

“Why would you even want to keep that sort of thing?” Walsh demanded, looking as ill as Robyn currently was.

“At first, I thought to go and hunt down as many knights as I could find, to get revenge.  But I was too young and too hurt to really do anything.  It simply sat in my hoard for centuries, forgotten, until I met Jack…and then, I entrusted it to him.  It’s been used several times, in the name of Torchwood, but for the most part it’s been kept in the Secure Archives first at the original Hub, and then London Central…and was moved to Hubworld.  It’s been there ever since.”  Ianto sighed.  “I never thought I’d be finally using it to get a second vengeance on the man who aided in murdering my parents and sister, though.”

He then unbuckled his belt, removing the sheath.  “I can’t wear this in my dragon form; it won’t adapt to that sort of thing, unlike Excalibur.”  He held it out toward Walsh.  “Detective…Jason…will you hold it for me while we fly to the British Museum?”

Henry was pitifully glad that Ianto hadn’t asked him to do it, because he knew it was beyond him to even touch that evil sword.  From the expression on Walsh’s face, he really didn’t like it either, but he reached out and grasped the black leather sheath in both hands. 

“Thank you,” Ianto said sincerely.

“I’m not sure how I should answer that, since you basically just handed me a cursed weapon,” Walsh quipped, trying to break through the tension that had risen within the group.

“Not answering will suffice,” the dragon smiled, but it was a pitiful thing and faded away quickly.  “If you don’t mind, you should fly with Anwyn.  I’ll take Henry with me.”  He turned to regard his younger daughter. “Robyn, will you fly, or do you want me to carry you as well?”

Robyn lifted her chin defiantly.  “I’ll fly, Tad.  I’ll do it for Alyce.”

Ianto looked at her proudly, and Henry couldn’t help but feel the same.  Robyn didn’t like her dragon form, and he knew that Skylar and Alyce had taken it upon themselves to convince her just how wonderful she was as a dragon, and the immortal hoped that it would, one day, be successful.

The three of them changed into their dragon forms; Ianto’s green, Anwyn’s sapphire, and Robyn’s glittering gold.  All three were impressive, and Henry wished – not for the first time – that he could, somehow, have a draconic shape of his own, to be the mate that Rowena truly deserved, and to fly a true mating flight with her. 

But, that would never happen.  Yes, Jack had managed to gain a magical form, but that had come after being buried under Cardiff for nearly two thousand years, and that was something Henry didn’t want to have to go through.  No, he would be content with what he had, and especially now that he and Rowena were expecting.  That had come as a shock, but one that Henry revelled in.  He was happy, more than he ever thought he’d be.

He’d be even happier once Adam was taken care of.

Ianto squatted down for him to climb on, and Henry did so without even really thinking about it, familiar with flying with Rowena even though they really didn’t do it all that much…which was something he was going to correct, once everything was done and they could focus on their family. 

Rowena’s suggestion, back before the Dragon Slayer had attacked them, had been a good one.  Henry was looking forward to becoming a true archaeologist, and for them to explore the universe together.  Now that they had babies on the way, Henry knew he could take his time with his studies, but at the same time he could help his mate with the children.  The immortal was thrilled with all the opportunities that would come in the future.

However, they had a job to do first.

He reached into his coat pocket for the goggles he’d brought with him, sliding them over his head to protect his eyes. Henry glanced over at Detective Walsh, who was doing the same; Anwyn must have thought of bringing a pair for their new friend, but then she would have.  Most likely they were a pair of Gwaine’s she’d snagged on their way out of Ddraig Llyn.

Ianto checked with his daughters and, seeing they were ready and Walsh was seated properly, the dragon patriarch launched them upward with a powerful flexing of muscle and wing. 

With ease, Ianto avoided the low-flying traffic, darting between the lanes carefully, until they were above the aircars in their patterns and away from any chance of collision.  London Island spread below them, glittering in the sunlight, and Henry took the opportunity to watch the city roll by underneath.

He could recall London as it was, back when he was mortal, even though the memories were fuzzy and distant with great age.  London back then had been cramped and smelly and gloomy, with the stain of coal and steam on the buildings; it had changed so very much, until it was the bustling, clean city that it was now. 

But it had had to go through a lot to get to this point.  Henry hadn’t been aware of it at the time, but London had been the site of quite a few alien invasions, so many that both UNIT and Torchwood had originated there.  There had also been the Warehouse, where magic was stored…and it had been a surprise to discover that Ianto had once worked there, in the guise of a human named William Wolcott, and had worked with the one and only Helena Wells, back on his very last trip out of Ddraig Llyn to search for any sort of remnant of his people.  Before Jack had found him and he’d left for his mate, and for Torchwood.

He'd just missed the pair of dragon eggs that the Warehouse had been holding.  Those same eggs had been hatched and had grown up to be Henry’s beloved twins, Jocelyn and Abraham. 

Off in the distance, Henry could make out Torchwood Central, the tower that had once been the headquarters of the Institute on Earth, after the flooding of Cardiff.  Jack and Ianto had worked there, until Hubworld had been terraformed, in the 27th century.  Phillip had also worked there, on behalf of what had once been called SHIELD, and Henry had wished he’d known them back then. 

But he’d been in New York.  He’d lived there during the Chitauri invasion, and the Cybermen coming, and through a handful of other sorts of alien incursions.  He’d seen the first team of Avengers, had been a witness to the first appearance of what would be called the Torchwood Dragon.

His father-by-mating. 

How different would Henry’s life had been if he’d revealed himself back then? 

But no.  He’d hidden himself, because of the Sokovia Accords and the fear that people had of the strange and unusual.  He’d been stung before, by his first wife.  He wasn’t about to risk that again.  He still had vague nightmares about the asylum he’d been committed to for claiming to be immortal.

It didn’t take them long to get to the British Museum.  Henry hadn’t been in a very long time, and it was surprising to him that architectural styles came back after so long, as it now greatly resembled what the museum had looked like back in the early days.

There was a crowd out on the front lawn as Ianto began dropping down to land.  It was a credit to the pedestrians that, beyond some pointing and gaping, they generally got out of the way of the dragons who were bound and determined to set down in front of the museum.  Ianto touched down first, coming to a gentle halt, his wings folding back against his body and his knees bending, so Henry could slide off easily.  He proceeded to do so, so his father-by-mating could change back into his human form; which he did, as soon as Henry was clear.

Anwyn and Robyn followed suit, and Walsh joined Henry off to the side as the three of them became human once more.  “It’s amazing,” the detective said, awe threading his words.

“It really is,” Henry agreed without hesitation.  It didn’t matter how long he lived, he’d never cease to be in awe of the clan he’d mated into.

The moment Ianto was back to his human self, Walsh was handing the sword back to him, as if the man couldn’t wait to get rid of it.  The thing was terrible, and although it looked old and pretty harmless, Henry knew it wasn’t. He couldn’t blame Walsh for wanting to give it back immediately.

Ianto accepted it with a nod, settling it back onto his belt once more.  He didn’t look any happier than Walsh did, which made Henry feel so much better about its presence with them.  The dragon wasn’t bringing it along because he really _wanted_ to; it was out of necessity, and Henry could practically _see_ the cycle of history near to closing in the moment the Dragon Killer was back with the person who’d been the most affected by its existence.

It made him wonder what the Doctor would have seen, with the Time Lord’s innate sense of time.  Or, Merlin, even.

They’d drawn the attention of the crowd, but Ianto ignored them as he strode toward the steps of the museum.  Anwyn walked at his right, with Robyn beside her; Henry automatically took up position at Ianto’s left, Walsh beside him. 

He’d often heard about the ‘usual formation’ in stories, and Henry wondered if this was what it had looked like, Torchwood flanking their leader, as they moved as one toward the British Museum.

They were crossing the walkway in front of the stairs when a man stood, from where he’d been seated on one of the upper risers.

Henry recognised him immediately.

Now he knew that the immortal who’d called himself Adam was a dead ringer for Torchwood’s former Medical Officer, Doctor Owen Harper.  It made him wonder if Owen had been some sort of distant relation of Adam’s, or if was just a case of genetic multiplicity that the Doctor and Jack seemed to enjoy going on about.  He was dressed in tweed and flannel, looking very much like a professor, but then Henry had seen him pretend to be someone else before, and was aware of just how good Adam was at it.  There was a smirk on his pale features as he came down to meet them, and Ianto stopped at the first step, waiting, his face a blank, implacable mask as his eyes tracked Adam’s movements as he approached.

“Torchwood Second Ianto Jones,” Adam said, sounding very pleased, “it’s a pleasure to officially meet you, as it were.”

“Adam,” Ianto returned, as if this were a conversation about the weather.  “I have declared vengeance against you, but if you tell me where my daughter and Detective Shraeger are, I’ll let Henry deal with you as he sees fit…which will most likely not be pleasant, but it will be better than what I and my mate will do.”

Adam’s eyes slid toward Henry, and his smirk turned into a sly smile.  “While I’m certain you’d believe you could do things to me that I wouldn’t care for, you’d be no match for Josef Mengele and his tender ‘mercies’.”

Henry was well aware of Adam’s history with the Nazi Angel of Death, and knew he was speaking the truth.  “You might want to threaten him with Phillip instead,” the immortal suggested.

Ianto quirked an eyebrow up in response.  “Interesting.  I’ll keep that in mind.  Phillip can be somewhat… creative, I do admit.”

Adam rolled his eyes at that.  “If you really think you’re scaring me, you might want to think again. You’re only amusing me at this point.”

“What if I just decide to arrest you?” Walsh demanded hotly.  “I hear Stormcage is nice and gloomy this time of year.”

Henry didn’t think putting Adam in Stormcage would be such a good idea.  There were enough HYDRA people in there as it was; having him within the prison’s walls might have been asking for trouble. 

But he honestly couldn’t think of anywhere else to incarcerate Adam that was secure enough.  It would need to be somewhere Adam could never escape, because they’d just be dealing with him again down the road at some point. 

“You will tell us what you’ve done to my sister,” Robyn growled, “or you won’t like what _I_ do to you.” 

Henry watched as her eyes flashed into their dragon aspect in her rage.  Not for the first time did Henry wonder if Alyce and Robyn were mates, only of a different kind.  He’d have to ask Ianto if siblings could be that way…but then, Robyn _was_ adopted, and not a blood relative.  However, Alyce hadn’t shown her dragon form from their closeness, so perhaps not.

Adam scrutinised her.  “Well, aren’t you full of surprises, Ms Harkness-Jones?  I have to admit, we didn’t know anything about you before new Wales, so we weren’t prepared.”

“So, you admit that you were the one who set the Dragon Slayer on my nephew, Skylar?” Ianto demanded.

“Actually, that was my partner.  It seems that he was once killed by Phillip Coulson, and was a bit put out by that.”

Henry’s eyes narrowed.  “John Garrett?”

“He’s proved to be quite useful.  As matter of fact, he’s the one guarding dear Alyce and your Detective Shraeger.” 

“So, it’s you and Garrett who are leading HYDRA.”  Ianto didn’t say it in the form of a question.

Adam nodded happily.  “It seemed like a good idea at the time.  Still does, actually…although I do admit your family has managed to derail quite a few of my plans.  I’m really quite impressed.”

“You planted that ring,” Henry accused.  “You wanted to pull Ianto into a trap, didn’t you.”  He also didn’t have to ask.

“You can imagine my surprise when he showed up with an entourage.  Sir Guy wasn’t willing to take on all of you, and I cannot blame him for that.”

Henry could see the muscle in Ianto’s jaw jump as the dragon clenched his teeth, most likely in an attempt to keep his temper under control.  Ianto Jones had always prided himself on his calm demeanour, but Adam was taking chunks out of that and tearing into it like a wolf into the carcase of his kill.

It was time to take control of the situation.

Adam had stopped on the step just in front of Ianto, the extra height putting his head just above the dragon’s, giving the other immortal a slightly more powerful position.  Henry came forward, taking that extra step up, so that he was on the same level as his nemesis.  “We all know you’re doing this because of me,” he said, trying to sound reasonable and knowing he was failing miserably, “so why don’t we stop the games and get on with this.”

“You seem to have a somewhat inflated opinion of yourself, Henry, although I thought you’d never ask,” Adam smiled darkly. 

“Henry,” Ianto warned softly.

There really was no choice in the matter.  “Take me instead.”

Adam had the upper hand.  He had Alyce and the detective, and fingers in how many pies under the guise of HYDRA.  He honestly couldn’t come up with another scenario that would get their loved ones back.

He thought of Rowena, back at Ddraig Llyn, pregnant with his children.  He thought of Jocelyn and Abraham, who could become victims of the Dragon Slayer, just as Sabrina had been.  Everyone in his family was at risk while Adam was free, and it was up to Henry to do something about it.

However, it was taken out of his hands by a very determined detective with a stun gun.

Adam jerked suddenly, eyes widening almost comically as his entire body jerked.  The unmistakable whine of an energy weapon sounded over the crowd noises.

Henry whipped around, pinning Detective Walsh with an incredulous stare.  The man had his police-issued stunner out, and it was aimed right at Adam, who proceeded to collapse onto the museum steps. 

He couldn’t have been more surprised if the Spirit of Christmas had proved to be a real person.

Ianto laughed.  “Where did you get that, Detective? I would have thought you’d have left your weapon behind on Luna.”

“I did,” Walsh confessed, as he bent over the unconscious immortal and slapped a pair of handcuffs on him, not being at all gentle.  “But I had time to go and get it.  There was no way I was going into this situation unarmed.”

“That is brilliant,” Anwyn chuckled.  “You are a man full of surprises, Jason.”

He gave her a pleased smile.  “I aim to please.” 

“And Henry,” Ianto turned to the immortal, giving him a displeased stare, “you and I are going to talk about this whole self-sacrifice thing.  I don’t tolerate it with my mate; I certainly won’t from my son-by-mating, especially one with children on the way.”

“What about Alyce?” Robyn demanded.  “Tad…how do we find her and Casey now?” She sounded as if she wanted to cry.

Ianto wrapped an arm around her.  “We’ll find them, sweetheart.  Don’t worry about that.”

“Or,” Walsh said as he cheerfully tossed Adam over one shoulder, “they’ll find us.  Don’t count them out yet.”

“Indeed.”  Ianto gave his daughter an encouraging smile. 

“What are we going to do with this bastard?” Walsh jiggled the unconscious immortal, obviously not caring what sort of damage he did.

“We take him to Torchwood Central,” Ianto ordered.  “He’s not only wanted by us, but under Imperial warrant by now.  I’m certain they wouldn’t mind keeping him as a guest.  Then, we let Henry interrogate him.”

“Of course,” Henry answered, letting his sarcasm show, “we let Henry interrogate him.”

It didn’t hurt that he was actually looking forward to it.

 

 

 


	44. Chapter 44

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Trafusis_ **

****

Jack gasped back to life, disorientated and wondering where Ianto was.  His mate was always there when he came back, and he was alone…

Memory came flooding back, and he sat up, surrounded by complete and utter darkness…

Or tried to.

His forehead hit something hard, and he plopped back down, lifting his hand automatically to get a feel for his surroundings.  There was something unyielding about two feet in front of his nose, and his fingertips could just make out the smooth surface that Jack thought might be some sort of plastic.

Jack figured it out: he was in some sort of crate.

And it was moving.

The immortal cursed as vague feelings of claustrophobia washed over him.  Jack was able to quash them down; it had been a very long time since he’d been buried alive, and it could have been so much worse if the Great Dragons hadn’t found him back then.  Still, knowing he was helpless in the dark wasn’t doing his psyche any favours. 

Especially when he remembered just who had just killed him.

Alice Guppy.

How could he have been such an idiot and not realised who H and G were?

Maybe he could be forgiven for not working it out, that the infamous Torchwood Lesbians, Emily Holroyd and Alice Guppy, were the criminals they were looking for; the ones who’d led Sabrina into the trap that had led to his daughter’s death.  He hadn’t even _considered_ the pair of them being reincarnated like that, since Guppy and Holroyd had been loyal to Torchwood back in the day.  He just couldn’t see why they’d be with HYDRA now.

Maybe that was something he’d be able to ask them when they got him to wherever they were taking him.

Whatever transport he was in hit a particularly big bump, rattling Jack down to his bones.  The crate he was in was horribly uncomfortable, not that he knew either woman would care about his comfort.  The pair had disliked him almost from the beginning; first kidnapping him, then experimenting on him, and finally conscripting him into Torchwood.  As much as he’d hated it at the time, in the end it had turned out for the best, and Jack was justifiably proud of the work he and Ianto and all of those others who’d been in their teams had done. 

But that original Torchwood…it hadn’t been a good place to work.  And a lot of that had to do with the two so-called ladies who’d obviously reincarnated into the criminals calling themselves H and G.  The pair had shown a sadistic side when it came to his immortality, and the only reasons Jack had hung around were that he was waiting for the Doctor, and if he hung around in Cardiff to do so Holroyd and Guppy would have just kept up the harassment.  In the end, it had just been easier to put up with it, earn a little money, and to do the best he could in a really bad situation, all the while hoping that the Tarot Girl had been wrong about the Doctor now showing up until after the turn of the 21st century.

Of course, she’d been correct, but as Ianto had explained to him, her kind usually were, only they just enjoyed giving people a little false hope that they could be wrong.

If it wasn’t for the creature pointing him toward his mate, Jack would hate her with every fibre of his being for putting him through all that.

But then, it really had been his decision to stay.  So, it wasn’t all her fault.

The transport stopped, and Jack took a deep breath of the increasingly stale air, readying himself for whatever was going to happen next.  If H and G were anything like their previous lives, it wasn’t going to be pleasant.

The crate rocked sharply, and the immortal knew it was being lifted and carried somewhere.  There wasn’t a single crack to let any sort of light in, and Jack was getting heartily tired of being in the dark… in more ways than this one, really.  He couldn’t wait to have the damned lid of the crate removed so he could get out and see some light.

It wasn’t too long before that happened.  There was a faint humming noise around the edges of the crate, which Jack took to mean it was being unsealed, and he squinted to protect his eyes just in time to prevent himself from being completely blinded by the sudden brightness that flooded the container.  He didn’t even attempt to attack whoever had released him; Jack was at a very distinct disadvantage, not having full vision and being unable to make out just how many there were outside his confinement.  He’d just have to bide his time, and figure out the best way to escape.

Not that he didn’t believe that the Doctor would be on his trail.  From the weight on his wrist, H and G hadn’t removed his Vortex Manipulator, and even though the wrist strap didn’t work beyond data storage any longer, there was still tech within that could be traced.  If he knew the Doctor – and Jack did know him very well – then as soon as it was noticed that he didn’t make it to the TARDIS, the Time Lord would come looking for him.  With the TARDIS’ help the Doctor would be able to trace that technology.

Jack was beginning to think that his getting killed and then kidnapped was going to turn out for the best, after all.  Even though he absolutely _hated_ needing to be rescued.

“Up and out, Handsome Jack,” came a mocking voice, one almost recognisable yet just a little different from the very fuzzy memories he had of his early years at Torchwood.

Not having anything better to do, Jack sat up, blinking the small spots out of his vision.  When he could see properly, he looked around at his surroundings. 

He was in a room that the immortal thought must have been in some sort of warehouse.  It was plain and somewhat dusty, a stack of pallets in one corner and glassed-in walls along three sides, revealing a large, dark space beyond the grime that caked the glass.  Jack could just make out a few stacks of crates beyond the windows, and some very tall shelving units, but that was about it.

The crate he’d been in had been set on the permacrete floor of the room, which was some sort of office only without the furniture he would have thought to have seen.  In another corner was a metal construction, struts and crosspieces welded together to form what almost resembled some sort of man-sized scaffolding, only with some leather straps attached at various places along the struts, as well as some sort of headgear hanging from the top.  There was a wall screen also set up, and the framework faced it. 

No, it didn’t look ominous _at all_.

He arched his back a little to work out the kinks, and then clambered out of his former prison, giving his captors one of his patented, thousand-watt grins, determined not to show that he was slightly disturbed by the _thing_ in the corner.

“Well, if it isn’t Holroyd and Guppy,” he exclaimed, as if he was happy to see them.  “This is a surprise.”

Both women resembled their past selves just enough for Jack to recognise them, and he mentally kicked himself for not doing it earlier, when Toshiko had sent them surveillance footage from Smuggler’s Moon.  Well, he felt he could be forgiven a bit for it, as he hadn’t been expecting it to be them.

Emily Holroyd – or H, as she was now known – gave Jack a smirk that had him feeling ill at ease.  “Jack,” she purred, “you can imagine our surprise when one of our people here on Trafusis claimed that Doc B was asking about us, and _then_ claimed it was for Cadi ap Llyn’s benefit…which meant you had to be involved.”

“And then I saw you on the street,” Alice Guppy – G – added.

“You could have just invited me along instead of stabbing me,” Jack countered calmly, not even bothering to check out the damage done to his shirt.  Ianto wasn’t going to be very happy about that, but his mate would even be unhappier with Jack dying…again.  

“Would you have accepted the invitation?” H enquired.

“No, but it would have been polite.”

Jack glanced around.  They weren’t the only three in the room: there were two others, and Jack guessed they were from some high-gravity world just from the state of all the muscles on display.  The immortal knew how to fight, and to fight dirty, but his heart sank as he realised he wasn’t going to be able to get past them.

“Then excuse us for forcing the matter,” G said.

“And for forcing a knife into my stomach?”

“It wasn’t like you wouldn’t come back to life.”

Jack really couldn’t deny it, they were both too familiar with his regenerative properties. 

“We really weren’t expecting you,” H commented.  “So, imagine our confusion as to how you figured out we were the ones that sent dear Sabrina into that trap.”

Jack crossed his arms and gave them both his best glare.  “You pissed off Sakura.”

“And they tattled on us,” G tutted.  “So much for honour among thieves.”

“You used her name to convince Sabrina to go to Stark’s World.  Of course she was going to rat you out.”  From how Guppy referred to Sakura, neither of them apparently didn’t have a clue as to who she really was, let alone that she was a child.  He was grateful for that.

“What I want to know,” he went on, “is why you’re involved with HYDRA.  Is a money thing?  Or have you really bought into their rhetoric?”

He really was curious.  Jack just couldn’t see them going along with HYDRA’s plans for domination.  They’d been Torchwood, and while Holroyd and Guppy hadn’t been good people, they’d been loyal to the Crown.

“Oh, I can’t say we’re _with_ HYDRA,” H replied.  “Although they do talk a good game, some of their notions aren’t ones we’re particularly pleased with.”

“But we do agree with them on certain things,” G added.  “Like, for example, what Torchwood has become…weak, toeing the Imperial line even though the Crown has become an obsolete institution catering to aliens instead of the humans that founded it.  Even the Empress isn’t human, which means she doesn’t even have that perspective any longer.”

“Torchwood used to mean something.  But that’s changed, Jack…you and your family have changed it, and for the worst.  Even it’s not run by humans anymore, and it hasn’t been for a really long time.”

“It’s time to put the Empire back on track to being the galactic power it should be, and Torchwood back to the glory it once had.”

Jack laughed.

He couldn’t help it.

“Ladies,” he shook his head in disbelief, “and I just that term _very_ loosely, you’re living in the past.  So is HYDRA, for that matter.  Why do you think your old memories were brought back?  Because HYDRA knew it could use them to make you do whatever the hells it wants you to.  And it’s worked.  You’re both so lost in the thoughts of the British Empire that you’re not taking into consideration that it doesn’t exist anymore.  And human…humans evolve, and that’s something you haven’t done.”

H was bristling, and G took a step toward Jack, raising a hand as if she was about to strike him for his impertinence.  Jack laughed again, and she completed the movement, her fist catching him in the jaw and snapping his head back.

Jack could taste the coppery tang of blood in his mouth, and his tongue probed at the new split in his lip.  He spat the blood right at G’s feet, not caring one whit if she decided to do it again.  Honestly, there really wasn’t a lot they could do to him, except to keep killing him, and he’d come to the conclusion that, while they would most likely be creative at it, they couldn’t possibly reach the levels of depravity of the Master. 

Besides, he was positive that the Doctor and Cadi were on their way.  He just had to wait for them to get there.

And so, he prodded them a bit more.

“What percentage of ‘human’ are you now?” he goaded.  “You’re certainly not pure-blooded, because that’s really not all that possible anymore.”  He turned to H.  “I can see a little Tolan in you; it’s the in the shape of your eye sockets and cheekbones.” And then, to G.  “And I would say there was a Corenath somewhere in your family tree, judging from the vestigial quills along your hairline.  And your goons?” He hooked a thumb in their direction.  “If you’re all so pure human, then why hire those two?  Because from their musculature alone I’d have to guess they were from Janus Two, or a similar high-gravity planet.

“And what about your boss?  Because, we know who he is, now.  Did you know that he’s an immortal?” He didn’t feel the need to let them into the differences in their immortality; it really wasn’t necessary.  “Yes, we know who’s running things around here, and it won’t be long before he’s in custody.  But Adam’s not human, either.  If HYDRA was all about humanity and taking back the Empire for humans, then he’s a hypocrite.”

Jack could tell he’d rattled them.  Good.  That was his plan. 

“The universe has moved on, and you haven’t,” he continued on inexorably.  “You’re still hidebound and lost in your out of date beliefs.  And now, you’re on the Imperial wanted lists, so you can’t hide.  Soon you’ll be picked up and tried for your crimes, which now included kidnapping of an Imperial citizen and the Director _in Perpetuity_ of the Torchwood Institute.”

He didn’t add anything about their Vow of Vengeance.  No, Jack fully intended on fulfilling that himself, the moment he got the chance.  And maybe he’d save something for Cadi, if he was nice about it.

But then, H seemed to regain control over herself, and she reached out, grabbing the fist that G had been flinging in Jack’s direction once more.  Then, she smirked, and it gave Jack an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

“You know, that all might be true,” she said smoothly, “but that doesn’t mean we still can’t get in a few hits back before we’re arrested.”

Alright, that didn’t sound good.

With a flick of her wrist, the two slabs of meat that were the hired muscle grabbed Jack by the upper arms and dragged him toward the spindly apparatus that had bothered the immortal so much.  He didn’t struggle, there really wasn’t a point, because Jack wasn’t about to get away from them.

Instead, he went limp, and made the two goons practically carry him.  They slammed him into the scaffolding, one holding him in place with a beefy hand against Jack’s chest while the other strapped him in firmly.  Jack did attempt to struggle against the straps, but he’d known at once that it wasn’t going to work.

“I’m really not that much into bondage anymore,” Jack quipped in an effort to hide the sudden bout of nerves that was overtaking him.  He couldn’t show how much this was affecting him; that would have been like flinging chum to the circling sharks.

“That’s too bad,” H said blithely.  “You might want to get used to it.”

G stepped to one side of the apparatus once the hired muscle was out of the way.  She reached up and pulled another set of straps around, fastening Jack’s head down so he couldn’t move it, the straps cutting into his temples roughly.

And then, the headgear was snugged into place.

Jack really tried to fight then as his eyelids were forcibly propped open, making it impossible to close his eyes.  He knew then just what this thing was, and what the screen was going to be used for.

It was a brainwashing device.

His memory was throwing up the times he’d seen such things, as well as the times it had been attempted with him.  Luckily for Jack, his immortality made it almost impossible to disrupt his brain in any way, and that included twisting his mind into something it wasn’t.  Still, that didn’t mean that this would particularly be pleasant, not that it would be.  He just knew that Holroyd and Guppy would make this as horrible as they possibly could.

One particular memory resurfaced, of the time he’d been held prisoner by the Master, back during that Year.  The insane Time Lord had thought that, if he could brainwash Jack, he could send him into the Resistance and break it from within, knowing as the Master had that Jack’s Torchwood team was involved.  It hadn’t occurred to the Master that Jack might not actually know where the Resistance would have been based, and so he’d never asked, but there had been a very real fear that the techniques the Master employed would have made Jack confess everything.

But it hadn’t worked.

It wasn’t just because, at death, his brain patterns would reset.  No, the Master – and Jack, to be honest – had discovered that the Vortex energy that kept him alive long beyond his natural lifespan also made it impossible to tamper with Jack’s body permanently.  So, the brainwashing had failed completely. 

The Master had been furious.  That had led to almost non-stop torture, as he took out his rage at being thwarted on Jack’s helpless body.

“Just what are you planning?” he demanded, his eyes already drying out from being kept from blinking.

“Well,” H answered, her finger tracing a line across Jack’s jaw, “if we can’t take over the Empire the way we’ve been doing it so far, then we’ll just have to do it another way.”

“What…you planning on brainwashing me and sending in to do HYDRA’s dirty work?” he scoffed.  He wasn’t about to admit that it wouldn’t work.  Jack needed to play for time, for the inevitable rescue that he knew was on its way. 

“That does sound like the plan, yes,” she purred.  “Our own puppet, in control of Torchwood, and with access to the Imperial family.”

“You seem to have forgotten that I don’t run Torchwood anymore,” Jack felt the need to point out.  He felt panic nibbling at the back of his mind, even though he knew damned well this wasn’t going to work on him.  It was the very idea that they were going to _try_ , that was spooking him.

Still, if they thought he was scared…it could only play into his scheme to waste time for the cavalry to arrive in the shape of a sentient blue box, a halfway insane Time Lord, and a privateer feared and loved all over the Twelve Galaxies.

Yes, Jack still hated being the proverbial damsel in distress, but he could deal with it for now.

“Oh, I’m quite sure that won’t stop you.  After all, Coulson is related to you, and you can take over anytime you choose.  We’re willing to bet he’ll be more than happy to step aside if you asked him to.”

Which was true.  Phillip was a damned fine Director, but Jack knew he’d give up his position with just a single word from Jack himself.  Silly, sacrificial idiot.

G was grinning darkly now, as if the very idea of putting Jack through this was exciting to her.  Oh, hells…who was he kidding?  Of course it was!  After all, Guppy had been the one who’d wanted to know how his immortality worked, and wasn’t afraid to test it whenever she’d found a new toy that the Old Cardiff Rift had spat out.  Sad to say that Jack had kinda gotten used to it.

Of the two, Guppy had been the more sadistic.  So he could see her enjoying the whole brainwashing thing, especially if it caused a bit of pain.

The screen in front of his turned on.  Patterns began to flicker across it, and Jack couldn’t look away.  It was only seconds before he could feel the headache coming on, and he sincerely wished someone would put some drops in his eyes or something.

“You will comply,” H murmured, her breath hot on Jack’s ear.  “Compliance will be rewarded, Jack.  Just give in.”

He didn’t dignify that with a response.

Jack didn’t know how long he hung there, eyes tracking the hypnotic patterns on the screen, his head throbbing in time with the strobing effect of the light.  He wondered if he could fake going under.  He was a pretty decent actor, and a very good conman – alright, he did mess up that thing with the Chula medical ship, but that had been the once – so he could pull it off.  He’d have to let them go pretty far, though, in order to be convincing.

Unless his rescue party showed up.

The immortal was wondering what was keeping the Doctor.  His piloting could really suck, and Jack began to think that maybe he’d ended up in another time and place somehow.  It would be the perfect capper to a perfect day, wouldn’t it?

But, no.  The TARDIS would know Jack was in trouble, and even if the Doctor managed to completely cock up the coordinates, the time ship would make certain to get where they needed to go.  Jack just needed to sit tight, and wait.

He was getting bored, though.  He wished they’d get a move on.

“You know,” he gasped, “the shows you get on that thing are crap.  You should really talk to someone about your entertainment package.”

That little remark earned him a hard punch to the stomach, and because he was strapped in so tightly he couldn’t curl up over the pain.  Jack gasped, then made a sound that was somewhere between a whoop and a moan.

“I don’t think he appreciated that very much,” a very familiar voice said from behind Jack.

“It’s about bloody time you got here!” the immortal shouted.

There was an altercation that Jack couldn’t see, although it sounded pretty impressive…especially the rather loud bellow that sounded as if it came from a set of lungs that weren’t quite human.  His mind nudged the memory forward, so he could see it…

And figured out where he’d heard that before.

Apparently, the Other Guy had come out to play.

 

 


	45. Chapter 45

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Imperial Throneworld_ **

****

It was a small house, unprepossessing, set back from the residential street and separated from its neighbours by a short, stone fence.  The yard was well-kept, bright flowers lining the cobbled walkway that led up to the front door, and a couple of insects flew by as Phillip strode up the walk, Empress Danielle leading the way, approaching the pale green painted door, which opened as Danielle was stepping up onto the tiny front stoop. 

Peyton Redmond stood there, surprise written all over his handsome features.

Now that Phillip knew the truth, he could see the resemblance.  While Danielle had her mother’s hair and eyes, she did have her biological father’s bone structure, and the immortal was disappointed in himself for not noticing before. 

He thought he could cut himself a little slack, though.  He’d never once considered that Councillor Redmond had been the previous Empress’ mysterious lover.  Certainly, he’d been off Throneworld at the time of the romance, but Juliana had kept it close to her chest, so to speak, and despite Phillip questioning her about Danielle’s birth father Juliana hadn’t admitted anything, pleading that the affair was over and that it really didn’t matter. 

He could certainly understand, if what Danielle had said was true as to the reason for it ending.  Phillip could recall the hurt that had been in his once ward’s face, and hadn’t pushed, not wanting to cause her any more pain than she’d already been suffering.

“What are you doing here?” Redmond asked, not moving from the open door.

“We need to ask you something,” Danielle answered.  “Won’t you let us in?”

Redmond glanced at Phillip, and then behind the immortal, as if trying to see if anyone else was there.  There wasn’t; Danielle had made it clear to everyone that it would be just herself and Phillip confronting the Councillor.  That had caused an argument, but eventually everyone had demurred before she’d had to use her Imperial power.

Although, Phillip knew that Clint wasn’t that far away, ready to come at Phillip’s call if needed.  Steve was with him, not willing to let his charge get that far away from his protection, not after the bombing.  He had his comm in, so all he had to do was shout if anything occurred.

There was still a chance that Redmond was HYDRA.  That he’d given them the information about the Pendragon Protocol willingly.  Still, he didn’t strike Phillip as a bad man, and was perfectly willing to give the councillor the benefit of the doubt.

Reluctantly, Redmond stepped aside, in order to let them in.  As he brushed past the man, Phillip took in the interior of the home.  They were in a small foyer; off to one side was an archway they opened up into a dining room, but it was obviously being used as an office, with a desk and a computer nestled into one corner.  A narrow flight of stairs led to the upper storey, where the bedrooms were most likely going to be.  A short hallway headed into the back of the house, and Phillip could just make out two other openings, one he was willing to bet went into the kitchen, and the other he wasn’t certain off, but thought might have been the guest bath.

There was a second arch on the other side, revealing a comfortable lounge, with sofa and chair at an angle to a fairly impressive entertainment centre.  Windows let in a great deal of natural light, gleaming off the light-coloured woods of the end tables and a large, neatly organised, bookcase. 

“You came without any sort of bodyguard?” Redmond demanded, once he seemed to have gotten past his shock at seeing the Crown of the Human Empire and the Director of the Torchwood Institute standing on his front stoop.

Not that either of them resembled their lofty titles at the moment.  Danielle was wearing denims and a hooded sweatshirt, the hood hiding her bright hair and making her nearly indistinguishable for any sort of publicity likenesses of the Empress.  Phillip, himself, was also dressed down, in a jumper that had obvious Daisy-induced damage on the sleeves and shoulders, and his own well-worn denims and combat boots.    They were both as incognito as they could have been, for being the head of a supreme power and the man who’d singlehandedly saving the Imperial family from death.

He still wasn’t really all that happy that Danielle had ‘outed’ him to the universe.  It would take some getting used to.

“Phillip was good enough for Mother,” Danielle shrugged.  “I trust him with my life.”

The immortal was touched by her confidence in him, but didn’t let it show.  He simply stood at her shoulder, waiting for her to make the first move once they knew what Redmond was going to do.

“I suppose after the show we had yesterday…” Redmond sighed.  He motioned them into the lounge.  “We should have a seat, and tell me how I can help, Your Majesty.”

Danielle didn’t flinch at the use of her title, but Phillip could tell it was close thing as they accepted the invitation and took the offered seats, both of them on the sofa while Redmond sat in the chair.  “I’m not here as the Empress of the Human Empire…but as your daughter.  We really need to speak to you.”

Redmond looked resigned by that, eyes darting to take in Phillip, searching for some sort of reaction to that revelation.  “I do wish your mother had never admitted to you who I was.”

Danielle’s spine was stiff as she perched on the edge of the sofa cushion.  “Sometimes, I wish she hadn’t, either, to be honest.” Redmond himself didn’t hide his own flinch at that blunt comment.  Phillip wanted to feel sorry for him, but really didn’t, not after what he’d learned about the circumstances of Danielle’s conception. “But today, I’m glad, because this is important.”  She glanced at Phillip.  “Ask him, Uncle Phillip.”

The immortal nodded.  He’d been expecting her to let him take the lead in the questioning.  “Councillor Redmond, we need to know who you might have told about the Pendragon Protocol.”

A single blink conveyed every single bit of confusion the man was experiencing.  “I’m insulted that you believe I would have told anyone about it!”

“It has to be you,” Phillip said implacably.  “Everyone else who knew, didn’t say a word to anyone.”  He didn’t bring up the fact that he’d mentioned it to Clint, but then his mate could be trusted implicitly.  “You’re the only one who was aware of the Protocol we cannot account for.  So, I ask again: who did you tell?”

“Look,” he said, outraged, “I might not have liked the blasted thing – “

“HYDRA knew about it, Father,” Danielle cut in, almost gently.  “It was the reason they bombed the Palace: to take out the Imperial family, and to frame Phillip for it.  Then, when the Protocol was enacted, it would have looked like Torchwood had arranged to put their own into power.  A lot of innocent people would have died, including your grandson, if it hadn’t been for Phillip. I don’t want to believe you’d side with HYDRA, so please…tell us.”

Redmond jerked back, as if Danielle had physically slapped him.  Several emotions crossed his face; Phillip could read fury, even more outrage, sadness and, finally, acceptance.  The immortal relaxed infinitesimally, knowing that Redmond would tell them what they needed to know, now.

The councillor looked out of the window, in an attempt not to meet their eyes.  “When…when your mother chose the Empire over me, I was…upset.  I took a leave of absence.  At the time, I was an assistant to the councillor that had been holding my current seat, and I told him it was a family emergency, which he accepted and he let me go home.  I was hurt by Juliana’s rejection, and simply couldn’t stay.”

Phillip could understand rejection, but at the same time Redmond should have realised that Juliana would never have accepted his request to leave the throne and be with him exclusively.  Juliana had been raised to become Empress, and she had been extremely good at it, her temperance and even-handedness had garnered her a positive reputation throughout her reign, and the entire Empire had mourned when she’d died so precipitously, in such a horrible accident. 

“I’d been home for six months when I met…him,” Redmond continued.  “His name was Nicholas, and he was…amazing.  At first, it was just a friendship.  I really didn’t get into why I was so cut off and sullen, not in the beginning, but as we got closer I told him that I’d been cast aside by a previous lover.  I didn’t say who that lover was, not wanting to spread any sort of rumour against Juliana.  Despite everything, I still loved her.

“But, as these things happen, Nicholas and I soon became lovers.  I did love him, but I was still really pining after Juliana.  It wasn’t fair to him, but he claimed to understand, and said he’d accept whatever I could give him.  It was about that time that it was announced that Juliana was pregnant, and I remember…oh, I was so very angry, thinking that she’d gone and taken another lover so soon after she’d made her choice. 

“That’s when I told Nicholas just what had happened.”

“It didn’t even occur to you that Juliana was carrying your child?”  Phillip asked gently.

“Not at first,” Redmond admitted.  “I was just too hurt by the news.”

“So you told this Nicholas person about your affair with Mother.”  It wasn’t framed as a question.

“I did, yes.  After that first confession, it was so much easier to tell Nicholas everything.  That included the Pendragon Protocol, since I didn’t agree with it at all.  It meant putting too much power into the hands of one particular family, and that…no, I didn’t like the idea at all, and I made certain that Nicholas knew it.”

“What happened to Nicholas?” Phillip asked, ideas roiling through his head about who this person was.  He could have been a hidden reincarnation, one that HYDRA had reawakened.  Or, someone who simply had bought into HYDRA’s rhetoric.  It was hard to tell, and until they found the man they wouldn’t know the answer.

“He died,” Redmond said softly.  “It was a year after we got together; a flitter accident, a crash into a mountain.  They never found his body.”  He drew in a deep breath.  “After that, I came back to Throneworld, only this time it was to take up the Council seat of my old mentor.  That was when Juliana told me that the baby was mine.  I…think she was hoping I’d come back to her.  But it was too late.  I couldn’t do it.”

Phillip sat there, mulling over what Redmond had just told them.  If this Nicholas person was dead…

And then, as Danielle was commiserating with her father over his loss, a thought struck him like a bolt of lightning, hard and sizzling and shaking him to his core.

“What did this Nicholas look like?” he asked sharply, cutting across whatever it was Danielle was saying.  She glanced at him in surprise, while the councillor frowned.

“I have a photograph.”  Redmond got up, his fingers flicking in confusion.  “I’ll be right back.”  With that, he walked out of the room, leaving Danielle and Phillip alone.

“What are you thinking?” Danielle demanded.

“They never found Nicholas’ body,” Phillip pointed out. 

“So?”

He shifted slightly, so he could look her directly in the eye.  “Adam is like Henry.  When he dies, his body vanishes into the nearest body of water.  _They never found Nicholas’ body_.”

Danielle’s mouth dropped open.  “You’re saying that this rogue immortal got close to my father in order to get _information_?”

“I…honestly don’t know.  Maybe the relationship began innocently enough.  But Adam, as soon as he heard about the Pendragon Protocol…it would have been like giving him the best birthday present ever, and it might have been the catalyst for his mission.”  Phillip sighed.  “Goddess, I hate being this suspicious.”

Danielle reached out and took his hand.  “No, don’t be like that.  We’ll see if this really is Adam.  If it isn’t…I don’t know.  I leave that up to you, Steve, and the others.  I just run things around here.”  She gave him a sunny, reassuring smile, but the immortal knew this wasn’t easy for her.

“You do more than that.”

“Still, I rely on others.  You are one of those others.  As much as I adore Steve, there are times when I wish you hadn’t left the Shieldsmen.”

“It was time.”  It had been _past_ time, but Phillip didn’t want to point that out to her.  He’d needed a change, and it had taken a forced trip back into the past to make him realise that.

“I know.  And you’re a wonderful Director of Torchwood.  But, this puts you out on the galactic stage a lot farther than what you’ve been used to.  I didn’t help with that, with my announcement and with the statement I’m going to be making later today.  I just can’t help but wonder, you know?”

He could understand.  The immortal had become used to working in the shadows, had been quite good at it.  So many things had occurred that he’d had a direct hand in.  It made him laugh, that the Council was so afraid that he was going to use his position as Torchwood’s Director to make some sort of power grab, they had obviously forgotten that he’d been the power behind the throne for over two thousand years.  Taking the job that Jack and Arthur had offered him had, in actuality, _decreased_ his prestige in so many ways.  He could no longer make suggestions behind the scenes, everything he did now would be under a great deal of scrutiny.

Phillip had hoped to keep going as he had when he’d been Grand Master, and that had proved impossible from the moment he’d set foot on Hubworld.  With his saving of the Imperial family, the full spotlight was now on him, and there would be no turning back. 

It was somewhat uncomfortable, but he could exist with it.

“Here you go.”  Redmond stepped back into the lounge, holding a photo that had been set in a tasteful, wooden frame.  The frame was worn in places, and Phillip could infer that the councillor had held it many times in the past, just judging from where the wearing was. 

The wood was warm in his fingers as Phillip scrutinised the picture.  It was an outdoor scene, the trees behind the pair vividly dressed in red and gold leaves, with the sun glittering on a pond just beyond. 

The two men in them were laughing.  Phillip couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen Redmond look that carefree, and it took years off his age. 

The other man, though, was easily familiar.

Phillip’s heart sank.  He’d had no idea just how much he’d been hoping that Peyton Redmond’s Nicholas wasn’t who he’d thought.

Instead, he had to break someone’s heart.  “It’s him.  It’s Adam.”

 

 


	46. Chapter 46

 

  ** _4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_**

**_Unknown Location_ **

****

“You are like no dragon I know,” the Dragon Slayer admitted, giving Alyce a narrow-eyed stare, as if he was trying to figure her out.

“That’s because I’m a Star Dragon,” Alyce hissed angrily.  “There are no dragons like me.”

Casey’s eyes darted between the two, feeling as if she was watching some sort of sporting event.  Alyce was stiff, hands fisted at her sides, glaring at the man as if her very gaze could cut the metallic armour from his body. 

Sir Guy de Marigny held his sword at the ready, even as he was examining Casey’s companion.  He looked…well, it wasn’t pleased…no, it was satisfied.  He might have been curious, but he was also satisfied with having her near, and the detective knew that, of the two of them, Alyce was in the most danger.   This man murdered dragons for a reason Casey didn’t know, and he was sizing her up as his latest victim.  She’d seen that expression in serial killers before, so it wasn’t something she could easily miss.

It sent a shiver down her spine, and she genuinely worried about her new friend.

Garrett was standing back, watching the exchange with undisguised glee.  Casey really had no wish to know what was going on in his head.  She had a feeling it was really nasty.

“You have no dragon form,” the Dragon Slayer observed, “and yet your human form has the same defences.”

“Why don’t you try me and see just what my defences are?” Alyce challenged. She dropped into a semi-crouch, her shoulders suddenly relaxing as she took what could only have been a battle stance.   

“She’s really feisty,” Garrett chuckled.  “I like her.”

Casey was certain that was not a good thing.

Sir Guy cocked his head at the Star Dragon, not at all impressed by her attitude.  “I’ve killed many of your kind, girl.  You’d just be one more.”

“You’re bragging about slaughtering members of an intelligent race,” Casey exclaimed. 

“They are animals,” the Slayer spat, losing a little of his cool.  “They are devils, and all devils must be destroyed.”

Alyce laughed at that.  “Religious claptrap,” she dismissed.  “Dragons were around a lot longer than your priests and your beliefs.  And besides,” she smirked, “didn’t your Christ say that we should love our brothers as we love ourselves, or something to that effect?”

Casey wasn’t sure, but decided that agreeing was a good thing, so she did.

That seemed to poke the Dragon Slayer somewhere, because he took two steps toward Alyce, snapping, “Even the Devil can quote Scripture!”

Casey didn’t hold to all this religious shit.  Honestly, any cult that felt it was alright to murder others in cold blood in the name of their beliefs was touched in the head.  She was seeing this first-hand, and it only backed up what she and her partner had been told about the whole ‘killing all of the dragons’ thing that had gone on back in the ancient past, and had led to Ianto Jones becoming the only dragon in existence until it was safe for him to have a family.  It really was the first time that it really hit home for the detective that, as much as some people might romanticise certain periods in time, that they all had their wrongs and rights, and that a person just couldn’t dump one in favour of the other.

“That’s enough,” Garrett cut in, sounding bored.  “I know you want to kill her, but you can’t.  Not right now.  Not until we have her Daddy here.”

Sir Guy stepped back, lowering his sword.  “You are right, of course, My Lord.  I shall keep my temper until the one who killed me is dead by my hand.”

That comment had Alyce scoffing.  “You think you’re going to be able to kill my Tad?  You tried that once and failed.  He’s just gotten smarter and better the older he’s gotten.  You don’t have a chance against him.”

It suddenly struck Casey that Alyce was doing this on purpose: she was riling up the Dragon Slayer, in order to get him to come for her.  She wanted to take on the man who’d been responsible for so much death and to fulfil her family’s Vow of Vengeance. 

Casey had to hand it to her.  Alyce had stones.  Really big ones.  But she wasn’t so sure that her friend would have all that much of a chance without a dragon form.  After all, this man had already killed one of Alyce’s sisters, and had struck at two others of her family.  That didn’t count the numerous dragons he might have murdered back when he’d been alive the first time.  How did one humanoid dragon take on someone who had literal years of experience in knowing just how to strike in order to kill one of her kind?

The detective rested a hand on Alyce’s dirty sleeve, needing to communicate with her in some way to back off.  The heat that was coming off the dragon’s body was easily felt through the fabric of her coat, a sure sign that there was an inner flame involved even if Alyce couldn’t breathe it out. 

Garrett slouched forward.  “I’d be doing what your cop friend is suggesting, girl.  Sir Guy is pretty good at what he does.”

“You mean he’s good at killing innocent people?” Alyce growled.  “A people who never once tried to kill him?”  She shrugged off Casey’s hand, moving toward the Dragon Slayer.  “How many children, Knight?  How many babies did you murder on behalf of your crusade?  Children who couldn’t fight back?”

“It is better to dig out the source of the evil before it can spread,” the Dragon Slayer vowed, with all the fervour of a true zealot. 

That had Alyce snarling as she darted forward, and Casey shouted for her to stop.

It didn’t do any good.

The Dragon Slayer’s sword came up as Alyce attacked.  She darted under the arc of the blade, sweeping a leg out and toward the man’s knees. 

The sharp toe of her boot caught him just on the side of the knee, and even as he was bringing the sword back around, Alyce was doing one of those moves that had Casey’s jaw dropping, and making a mental note to ask the dragon’s brother to _teach her that_.

It was also sexy as all the hells there were in the Universe.

Alyce came up, danced around the swinging sword.  Her foot went up and planted itself against the nearest concrete pillar, propelling herself upward and over the Dragon Slayer’s head.  She landed gracefully, coattails whipping around her legs, and then she was cartwheeling right into Sir Guy’s back, knocking him forward.

She put a boot heel into the back of a knee, and the man couldn’t catch himself without dropping the sword, which he seemed to not want to do.  It meant he only had one hand to keep himself from faceplanting into the hard floor, and Alyce wasn’t going to give him even that chance.

She dropped both knees into his back, driving him down, the metallic ringing of the armour slamming into the concrete made Casey’s ears hurt badly enough that she didn’t notice the lesser sound the sword made as it skittered away.

Alyce grabbed a handful of hair, pulling the Dragon Slayer’s head back at an almost impossible angle.  Casey was certain she was going to break his neck.

However, that wasn’t what happened.

With a gasp, Alyce let go of the hold she had on the knight, to slap a hand on the side of her neck.  Her eyes went wide with shocked horror, even as Casey noticed the dart sticking out of the skin there.

Alyce gave a small sigh, and then collapsed, rolling off the Dragon Slayer to hit the floor herself, tumbling over onto her back limply as the drug in the dart took effect.

Casey spun toward Garrett.  The man had a gun in his hand, one that the detective cursed herself for not seeing.  In fact, she cursed herself for not taking the opportunity and going after Garrett herself, but Alyce’s movements had been so quick she really hadn’t had time to react.  Plus, Garrett had been far enough away that Casey just knew she wouldn’t have stood a chance getting to him before she was shot herself, and that wasn’t going to do either of them any good if they were both unconscious.

“Now,” he drawled, “that was impressive.  I keep trying to tell Sir Guy he shouldn’t underestimate anyone.  What makes this worse is that he’s faced that particular bitch before, and should have known better.”

Sir Guy was struggling to his feet, favouring his left leg where Alyce had kicked him.  He dragged his sword up with him, lifting it in both hands, positioning himself over the helpless Alyce…

“Stop,” Garrett ordered.  “You know you can’t kill her yet.”

“She attacked me!”

“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes, “of course she did.  You expected her to just stand there?  She’s been trying to get you to make a move since the moment she got here.  Put the sword down, Sir Guy.  Don’t make me tell the boss you went against his orders.”

That had the Dragon Slayer backing off, looking frustrated but doing as Garrett bid.  Casey let out a breath she hadn’t even been aware of holding, then she was at Alyce’s side, kneeling beside her and checking her pulse.  It was steady under her fingers.

Casey glanced back up at Garrett.  “You mean Dorian?” she demanded.

Garrett shrugged.  “That’s one of his names, yeah.  He’s in charge, and he has the plan.” Then he gave her a sunny smile.  “Aren’t you happy to be a part of that plan?”

“Not particularly.”  Casey sat back on her heels. 

“Didn’t think so.”  He made a motion toward the door, and once again Casey cursed herself for not even considering there were reinforcements outside the room.  In an organisation like HYDRA, there were bound to be plenty of minions around to do the dirty work.  “Get these two back to their cell,” he said. 

It took five men to pick up Alyce, each of them bitching about how heavy the Star Dragon was.  Casey wanted to laugh at the moaning but wasn’t sure it would go over well, and the last thing she needed was a set of bruises. 

No, she would go along with them and wait until Alyce woke up.  And, when she did, they’d have to see about trying to escape again.

Because there was no way either of them was going to wait to be rescued.  Especially with the Dragon Slayer waiting for Jones to show up.

Besides, Casey _hated_ being rescued.  It made her feel like such a _girl_ …

 

 


	47. Chapter 47

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Trafusis_ **

****

Cadi looked up at the building the TARDIS had parked them outside, not impressed but not surprised, either.  “Of course, it’s a warehouse.”

The Doctor shrugged.  “The bad guys do usually keep all their evilness in places like this.”

“I won’t even question your experience in stuff like this,” Bruce said wryly.

“Well, it’s either warehouses, underground tunnels, or caves.  It’s like villains have no imagination.”  The Doctor had his sonic screwdriver out, and it was humming purposely.  “The place is a lot more high-tech than it looks.”

Which was saying a lot, because it resembled most of the warehouses in this section of town: worn down, stained, and rickety, as if it would have collapsed under just the faintest breath.  Really, it was like some sort of villainous cliché, the one where the bad guys hid in the worst part of the city and plotted their revenge within the most horrible of conditions. 

“And Dad is definitely inside?”

“That’s where his Vortex Manipulator is.”

Cadi nodded.  Even if Dad wasn’t inside, if his wrist strap was then whoever had it, would know where he was. 

She pulled her blaster from its holster, checking the charge.  It was full; she hadn’t had a lot of use for it lately, but it never paid to be careless.  “What sort of security are we dealing with?”

“Motion sensors, cameras, you name it,” the Doctor answered. 

Cadi was ignoring the glances her gun was getting.  She knew very well the Doctor’s stance on violence, and could understand why he felt that way.  But this was HYDRA, or at least people affiliated in some way with HYDRA, and the pair of criminals who’d tricked her sister into the trap that had led to her death. Vengeance was so close now the privateer could practically taste it.

However, at the same time, the Doctor had asked _her_ to travel with him.  Cadi hadn’t known just how much she wanted to do that until he’d said it.  She’d never given it any thought before, but now…travelling with the Doctor was something she really wanted to do, and there was a part of her that didn’t want to wreck her chances.

Cadi had been on her own for a long time.  She’d done so much she was proud of, and no, it wasn’t the warrants and the rewards and the couple of bounty hunters she’d out-maneuvered in her life.  She’d done good, helping people who couldn’t help themselves, bringing a little hope to those who didn’t have it, who lived under the thumbs of tyrants and despots and who needed the things that Cadi provided to them.

The Doctor had told her that he was proud of what she’d done, as well.  That meant a lot to her; not as much as her parents’ approval, but close.  He was a force in the universe, and that force had fought more and sacrificed more than Cadi could ever hope to do.

But, really, it had been when the Doctor had come to get her and her sister from Stark’s World that had really pressed home just how much she respected him.

Cadi had once given the Doctor a good tongue lashing over his treatment of her parents.  The Time Lord though hadn’t known it at the time that it wasn’t the first time Cadi had ever met him, and in fact he’d been around quite frequently, with Merlin and River.  It had been jarring for her to know she was meeting him out of sync, and it had been difficult when he hadn’t recognised her at first. 

To this day, she really had no idea why she’d said the things she had, but it had been the correct thing to do according to him.  The Doctor had needed that push to actually check the timelines, and to see what he should have a long time ago: that Dad and Tad were important to the universe, and that they needed _him_ as much as the Doctor needed _them_.

Cadi respected him; moreso, she _loved_ him.  And she was suddenly afraid that she was going to lose his good opinion.

So, she turned to him.  “Doctor,” she sighed, “when we go in there, I’m going to do what I need to fulfil my Vow of Vengeance against them.  I…need you to know that.” 

His green eyes, so ancient and intelligent and sad, and yet so full of life, met hers.  He reached out and took her hand in his.  “Cadi,” he said solemnly, “A long time ago, a very wise someone once told me that I could never understand what it was like to be a Harkness-Jones.  To know how important family is, and how precious that bond can be.  That I would always be alone because I couldn’t see beyond the tip of my own nose.”

Cadi swallowed thickly.  Those were _her_ words.  She’d yelled them at him, that first time – for him – they’d met.  It had been building up, seeing just how cavalier he was toward herself and Anwyn, although he hadn’t known whose children they were at the time. 

She could still remember their ship, Anwyn’s first ship, shaking apart around them as the pirates attacked, looking for the medical supplies that they’d been transporting.  It had been Cadi’s first brush with people who were only out for themselves, and it had changed something within her, making her want to help whoever needed it, whatever it took.

And, into that mess, the TARDIS had materialised.  It had been a Doctor who hadn’t made up with her parents yet, and Anwyn had cautioned her about mentioning anything about who they really were.  Well, Cadi had blown that the moment she’d figured out that the Doctor could be a horse’s arse despite him being a genuinely good man.

So, she’d ended up letting him have it.

It had been the very act that had galvanised the Doctor into doing what he should have done hundreds of years ago: he’d made up with Dad and Tad, and had eventually become a member of the very family that Cadi had accused him of not understanding.

Her Dad still wore the ring that the Doctor had returned to him; the one that Tad had given him, back when he’d first sung the Song of Commitment to him.  The Doctor’s former persona had taken it, for some reason that even this version didn’t quite understand.

“But now,” the Doctor continued, “I do understand.  I might not agree that violence is the end-all and be-all solution that your Vow of Vengeances makes it, but I do understand the need to take control of something that has gotten so wholly out of control that there’s nothing else to be done but to put an end to it, once and for all.  And I’ve come to realise that vengeance and revenge are two different things, which is something I don’t think I ever really considered before knowing what a dragon’s vengeance meant.”  He sighed.  “When Phillip and I were held captive at the Library, I finally understood that vengeance isn’t necessarily a bad thing.  I swore my very first vow as Lucy and Ward were torturing Phillip, because it was the only thing I _could_ do.”  He gave her a warm smile.  “Whatever you do in there, Cadi, I won’t think any less of you.  Jack is in there and, while he’s my friend, he’s your _father_.  Some of those responsible for murdering your sister in cold blood might also be in there.  But I will stand beside you, whatever happens.”  He rested his free hand on her shoulder.  “Alright?”

“That…” she shook her head, blinking a little quicker than normal in order to stop from tearing up.  Then she took a deep breath.  “Let’s go and get my Dad, shall we?”

There really wasn’t anything she could say to that, that the Doctor couldn’t already see in her eyes.

He gave her a slightly manic grin.  “Any day I get to go in and mess with the villains is a really good day.”  He squeezed her shoulder, and then turned toward Doc B…Bruce. “What about you?  I know you don’t want to have another incident…”

He smiled sadly.  “Well, it’s not that I haven’t had an incident.  It’s just that the Hulk is getting as old as I am, and he sleeps a lot.  It really takes a great deal to get him riled up these days, but I suspect this might count.  Although, I do have a lot more control than I used to when he does decide to pay a visit.”

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”  She didn’t want her friend to put himself in the way of danger if he didn’t want to go.

“And miss this?  Not hardly.  And you might need the Other Guy to help out at some point.”

“Let’s see if we need him first,” she reassured him.  “Doctor, you can take care of the surveillance equipment, right?”

“As if you even have to ask,” the Time Lord scoffed, sounding insulted.  He twirled his sonic screwdriver in his long fingers.  “Stand back and be amazed.”

With that statement, he strode right up to the warehouse, the sonic out and buzzing away.  Cadi followed, as did Bruce, who was looking rather bemused about the whole situation.  “I’ve heard the rumours,” he murmured, “but is he really that good?”

“He really _is_ that good,” she confirmed.  “And he has the ego to go along with it.”

“Then this I have to see.”

The Doctor had stopped just at the fence that surrounded the warehouse.  It looked as ramshackle as the actual structure, but Cadi didn’t have to touch it to know there was a hefty current running through it, she could _feel_ it prickling against her scales uncomfortably.  She didn’t _think_ it would do that much damage to her, but she wasn’t going to take that chance, since she had the Doctor working his technological magic to get them inside.

The Doctor mumbled something that Cadi interpreted as something along the lines of whoever had built the fence had been idiots who didn’t know a security barrier if it bit them on the ear, and within seconds there was a faint sputter, and the electricity flowing through the metal cut out.  “Think you can tear us out a section?” he asked Cadi.

She snorted.  “As if you even have to ask,” she echoed him, which earned her a chuckle.  Cadi was glad she could amuse him.

With both hands, she grasped the metal links of the fence, the sharp edges not even penetrating her tough skin.  Flexing her forearms, Cadi pulled, and with a noise that was much fainter than she would have thought, the fence practically shredded apart, leaving an opening large enough for them to climb through.

Cadi, with a flourish, waved the two men inside the compound, following close behind.  She didn’t even bother tugging the fence back into some semblance of shape, realising that whoever was there would know they were present sooner rather than later, especially if they did as much damage as Cadi was quite prepared to do. 

Using the sonic screwdriver, the Doctor pinpointed each and every camera, knocking them out of commission.  Cadi was a little surprised that this act of sabotage didn’t bring anyone running, but then she wasn’t seeing anyone around.  She had to wonder just how deserted the warehouse was, and if whoever was inside wasn’t paying any sort of attention.

It was sloppy. 

Cadi didn’t care.

Her blaster felt familiar in her hand, a trusted friend from more firefights than she was willing to admit.  She held it loosely in her grasp, and yet she was quite ready to use it at the least provocation.  Cadi felt a little better about it, after the Doctor’s words to her, but there was a part of her that wanted to prove that she could be better than her reputation, that she was worthy of travelling with him in the TARDIS after all of this was over. 

Still, she wasn’t about to walk into trouble defenceless.

The three of them crept along the warehouse wall.  The place was windowless, so there was no way to look inside and get a lay of the land, but it also meant that anyone inside couldn’t conveniently glance outside and see them moving past.  A little way down the wall was a door, with a keypad at the side, and the Doctor tutted in disappointment as he proceeded to crack the code and get the door open.

It was almost pitch black inside.  Cadi blinked a little, letting her more sensitive dragon vision take over.  While she couldn’t see perfectly, she could make out shadow from the dark, and it made it easier to navigate.

It didn’t surprise her that the Doctor didn’t seem to have all that much trouble moving around as well.  Bruce, though, was practically blind, so Cadi reached out and grabbed his hand, leading him carefully along the rows of shelving, some of it empty but others loaded down with crates and bags of various sorts.  She wondered what was in them, and made a mental note to rat the place out to ImpSec as soon as they got her Dad out of the mess he’d gotten himself into.

There was no way she was going to explain it to Tad. 

Nope.

No way.

She’d leave that shit to Dad.

They hadn’t walked too far when a glimmer of light illuminated the darkness like a star in the distance.  The Doctor stopped and rested a hand on her wrist, but she didn’t need that negligible pressure to pull her to a halt. 

“I think we can assume that’s where Jack is,” he whispered, breath cool against her ear. 

Cadi nodded, the Doctor so close he would have had to have felt that tiny movement.  She leaned away, toward Bruce, and whispered the same thing to him.  Her friend also nodded in acknowledgement.

The Doctor tapped his finger on her wrist, and Cadi tilted her head toward him once more.  “I’ll loop around to the other side if I can,” he told her, near-silently.  “You and Banner keep going in this direction, and we’ll see about flanking them.”

It was a good plan, and she nodded once more.  Once the Doctor got her agreement, he was off down the row of shelves, and fairly quickly disappeared from sight.

Cadi communicated the plan to Bruce, who also agreed, and let her drag him toward the office without complaining about it. 

As they got closer, the privateer could make out movement in the office.  The windows that made up three of the walls were too filthy for a clear view, and she didn’t dare get close enough to wipe some of the grime away in order to get a better look. 

She guessed there were four people inside, judging from the shadows.  There was also something else, something large, but Cadi couldn’t tell what it was.  There was also something that flickered, and it took her a moment to figure out that it was some sort of vidscreen, although what it was showing she couldn’t even begin to work out.

However, it seemed as if Bruce _could_.

A low growl came from him, surprising Cadi so much she flinched back.  “They’re trying to brainwash him.”

Cadi’s heart slammed hard.  “Brainwashing my Dad?” she gasped in horror.  It…she couldn’t even consider they’d do that sort of thing, even though she’d heard the stories about HYDRA and how they ‘convinced’ unwilling people to work for them, to get them to comply with whatever they wanted them to do…and it had been Bruce who’d come up with the idea about the reason for kidnapping the Prince, to convert that poor kid to HYDRA’s cause. 

But, this was her _Dad_.  HYDRA was trying to turn him against everything he stood for, to make Jack Harkness into a puppet. 

Her own soft growl matched Doc’s.

“We need to get in there and stop them,” he said.  “I don’t think he’s been in there long enough, and the Jack Harkness I know is a strong-willed son of a bitch, so they can’t have gotten too far with him, but we can’t leave him in there for much longer.”

Cadi agreed.  Her Dad had been through enough in his life, and she didn’t want him to have to go through any other sorts of hell.  Not that she could necessarily prevent that, but she could give it her best damned shot.

Then she noticed her friend, and the strange, greenish tinge to his normally brown eyes.  “Are you alright?” she asked, even as she realised that was exactly the wrong question to ask.

“You remember how I said it took a lot to wake up the Other Guy these days?”

The penny dropped.

Oh, Goddess.

“Now?” she demanded rhetorically.  Because, yes…now.

“He really hates it when there’s brainwashing involved.”  Bruce’s voice was getting deeper and more guttural.  He bent over, taking long breaths, as if he wanted to draw every bit of oxygen from the warehouse into his lungs.   “We’ve been on the receiving end of that sort of thing before, and there’s no way we’re letting someone else go through it.”

“Then, let’s do this.” 

It wasn’t really part of the plan, to go up to that open office door and just go on the offensive on whoever was inside, but Cadi didn’t much care at that point.  They were supposed to wait for the Doctor to get around to the other side, but she didn’t _want_ to wait for him.  Her anger was buzzing just below the surface of her human skin, making the scales that would have normally been on the surface itch as if there were insects under the dermis.  If what Bruce had said was true, and they were in there trying to brainwash her Dad, then Cadi needed to put a stop to it _right now_. 

She was quite certain the Doctor would understand them not waiting for him.

With her gun in hand, Cadi ap Llyn, one of the most respected and feared privateers in the Human Empire and beyond, strode forward as if she fully intended on stealing the Doctor’s nickname of the Oncoming Storm from him, the changing form of her friend beside her and snarling at the sudden appearance of several hidden defenders that were popping up in their wake.

“I have them,” Bruce snarled, his voice much deeper than she’d ever heard from him, even in the throes of sex.  “Get Jack.”

She did as he instructed, knowing from the family stories that the Hulk was nigh-on invulnerable and the blasters being aimed in their direction wouldn’t do much to hurt him.  They wouldn’t really hurt Cadi either, with her tough inner dragon, but she still loathed getting shot.  So, she trusted Bruce’s larger than life alter ego to handle things and kept moving.

She could make out the Doctor in the shadows, and he was nodding at her as if in approval.  Cadi met his gaze as she tucked herself against the wall, looking in through the door that led to the office beyond, which was cracked open enough for her to peer through the gap.

There were four people there, not including her Dad.  Two were the infamous H and G, while the others were muscle most likely hired to do the pair’s bidding.  They were impressive looking, and she guessed that they were most likely from a high gravity world judging from their sheer bulk.

Well, the Hulk could take care of them.  Cadi had other things to worry about.

She could make out her Dad, strapped within some sort of apparatus, his back to the door.  There was a vidscreen positioned in front of him, with swirling patterns on it that were making Cadi slightly dizzy the more she looked at it.  One of the women was standing right up within Jack’s personal space, and while Cadi couldn’t see what she was doing, it was most likely not very nice.

“You know,” Cadi heard her Dad quip roughly, “the shows you get on that thing are crap.  You should really talk to someone about your entertainment package.”

Cadi wanted to laugh at that.  It was her Dad, being a smart arse like he was prone to doing.  The comment earned him a punch to the stomach, which made Cadi even angrier especially at the pained sound Jack made. 

“I don’t think he appreciated that very much,” she said, pushing the door all the way open and stepping into view, putting herself right underneath the office’s lintel, her gun out and pointing right at the people in the room.

Every single person spun toward her, and Cadi found herself facing two guns and two goons.

Cadi was fine with that.

“It’s about bloody time you got here!” her Dad shouted hoarsely.

“Sorry Dad,” she answered cheekily, “but traffic was a bear.”

Behind her, the Hulk roared, and the distinct sound of flesh hitting flesh made her want to wince.  Someone stepped up beside her, and somehow Cadi knew it was the Doctor, and didn’t react to his presence.

“Drop your guns,” she ordered, letting her eyes drop into their dragon aspect and her anger flare up into her command.

“I’d do what she says,” Jack sing-songed from where he was being held.  “My daughter doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Both of the women looked a bit surprised at, not only his declaration, but Cadi’s very physical appearance.  Well, she hadn’t exactly sent a commblast out as to her true identity, and it was gratifying that they hadn’t seemed to be aware that the infamous Captain ap Llyn was, in fact, a Star Dragon.  She didn’t know exactly how she always managed to get away with it, since she’d been around for over a thousand years, but chalked it up to all the wild stories that went around about her.

Then one of the women began cursing. 

Cadi gave her a rather savage smile. 

“Doctor,” she called back over her shoulder, “would you mind getting Dad out of that contraption and the destroying it?”

“That would be my absolute pleasure.”  His voice was crackling with his own outrage at what was being done to Jack, which really didn’t surprise Cadi one bit. 

“Wait,” the brunette exclaimed, “the Doctor?  _The_ Doctor?”  Her face had gone white with either fear or rage, and Cadi was leaning toward rage.

“That’s my name,” the Time Lord quipped, “don’t wear it out.”

It didn’t surprise Cadi that a pair of criminals knew who the Doctor was. After all, he wasn’t exactly hiding his exploits.  It gave her a sense of satisfaction that he was a member of her family.

There was another roar, and then the tinkling of breaking glass as one of the windows broke inward around a rather large, green fist.  That had both of the enormously muscled goons moving, and it was only the really irate Star Dragon blocking the doorway that kept them from leaving.

Alright, she’d been happy with letting the Hulk handle them, but was now changing her mind. 

She made a tutting noise at them.  “Get back there with your bosses,” she directed, jerking her blaster in their direction.  They did so, which meant that the gun would do some damage to them despite their bulk.

That seemed to be the Doctor’s cue, and he darted past her, careful to keep out of the line of fire, and was at the framework that was holding her Dad captive to the whirling patterns on the vidscreen in front of him.  Cadi didn’t spare him a glance, her own attention on the four in front of her, two of which still hadn’t lowered their guns.

“Really, Jack?” the blonde woman drawled, appearing to regain the composure she’d lost at their appearance in their lair.  “One of your brats _isn’t_ a do-gooder?”

“All of my children do good,” Jack answered, as the Doctor was unbinding his arms, “just some go about it in a different way than the others.”

Cadi couldn’t help the grin that erupted when she heard the pride in her Dad’s voice.  She’d known, of course, that both Dad and Tad were proud of what she did despite the good-natured ribbing she received from her family, but it was always nice to hear.

The sounds of fighting outside died down to silence, except for some extremely loud footsteps that were getting closer.  Cadi figured it was the Hulk, as the fist that had come through the window had been so large that there was no way he could have been quiet when he moved.

“You okay, dragon lady?” a deep, almost purring voice asked. 

Judging from the looks the four she was holding at gunpoint were giving the space beyond her right shoulder, the Hulk was, indeed, impressive.

“I’m just fine,” she assured him. 

“And Dad?”

“Doing great, Big Guy,” Jack answered jovially.  “It’s been a long time.  It’s good to see you again…or it will be, once the Doctor gets me out of this.” Something rattled loudly in the corner, and the Doctor hmphed at Jack’s impatience.

The Hulk grunted in acknowledgement.  “We gonna smash them?” A large, green finger poked its way into Cadi’s peripheral vision, aimed at their prisoners.

“It might yet happen,” she mused.  “I still need to fulfil that Vow of Vengeance I made, so smashing is still definitely on the table.”

“Good.  Hulk likes smashing.”

Cadi was absolutely charmed by the almost child-like cadence of the Hulk’s voice.  “You and me both.”

The moment Jack was free, her Dad came to stand next to Cadi, although he was facing out of the room.  “Looking good, Big Guy,” he commented.  She watched as he offered a fist, held out toward the Hulk, and to her surprise it was very gently bumped with a fist that was easily as large as her head.  Cadi wondered just what that gesture meant, but figured she could ask later.

At the moment, she had bad guys to deal with.

“H and G,” she intoned, standing just a little straighter with her Dad by her shoulder, “you are guilty of being complicit in the death of a member of my clan, and the kidnapping of one of our Patriarchs.  As such, you are subject to mine and my family’s justice.  As I am Sabrina’s older sister, and daughter to Jack Harkness, it is my right to carry out the Rite of Vengeance against you both.  Do you submit?”

She wasn’t sure where the words came from, but they were true, and she received an echoing confirmation from both her Dad and the Doctor, who was busily causing havoc with the brainwashing equipment.  Cadi was gratified that Dad was letting her handle this; as Sabrina’s birth father, his own vengeance took precedence, and yet he was stepping aside and giving the honour of meting out the family justice to her. 

Both women were staring at her incredulously.  “You can’t do anything to us,” the blonde denied.  “We’re prisoners, and under Imperial law we’re subject to arrest and imprisonment.”

“You’re both lucky it’s not me standing up to you,” Jack growled, channelling the inner dragon that all of the Harkness-Jones children knew existed within their immortal father.  “I have more of a history with you than the rest of my family does, and I’m more likely to be less gentle than Cadi is.”

The smell of fried wiring stung Cadi’s sensitive nose, and something snapped and hissed over in the corner, even as she was asking her Dad what he meant by that.  As far as she knew, he’d never met H and G before.

“They’re reincarnations,” he told her.  “I knew them as Emily Holroyd and Alice Guppy, and they were the pair who conscripted me into Torchwood in the first place.  They weren’t exactly…kind, to me back then, especially since they knew I couldn’t die, and that I knew the Doctor.”

“You mean they tortured you?” the Doctor demanded, as he came to stand with them.  Cadi didn’t have to see his face to know just how close the Oncoming Storm was to coming out to play.  “Because of me?”

“They hurt Dad?” the Hulk rumbled. 

No, Cadi wasn’t also charmed by the fact that the Hulk was calling Jack, ‘Dad’.

Yeah, she really was.

“What was alien, was ours,” the brown-haired woman – Alice Guppy – shrugged.  “And non-contracted Agent Harkness was obviously alien, and he knew Torchwood’s greatest enemy.  We were within our rights to do with him whatever we wanted.”

If Cadi had thought she was angry before, it was nothing to how she was feeling now.  Her Dad had been through so much in his long life, and he didn’t deserve the sort of treatment that he’d often gotten back in the past.  He was a good man, and no one hurt him and got away with it.

Before she even realised what she was doing, her gun fired, and the blast of energy caught G in the shoulder, knocking her backward and onto the floor.

The woman screamed as she went down.

Cadi had believed she’d feel at least justified with what she’d done, in the name of her sister and her father, but she didn’t.  It didn’t make her feel any better at all.

It…wasn’t as big a surprise as it might have been.

One of the things she’d learned from her Tad was that, while vengeance was a very real part of being a dragon, it more often than not didn’t really help anything.  It might have felt good for a short while, but that would always wear off, and the pain and anger would just come right back.  It was their duty to do what needed to be done for the good of the clan, and that often meant making vows and pacts that they would eventually fulfil, but it wasn’t the end-all and be-all that such things were made out to be.

Tad had told her about the vengeance he’d vowed against the Master, the mad Time Lord who’d tortured Dad for an entire year.  Of how he’d killed the Master with his own talon and how, at first, he’d felt glad to have done so.  However, despite it all, eventually the emotion had worn off, and he’d been left with a mate who had still been put through the worst hell imaginable, and it had done nothing to make the trauma Dad had endured go away. 

Vows like that, though, were always binding.  The power behind the ritual words was still as strong as it had been back when her Tad had been a child, and even further back than that.  But there were different forms of vengeance, and sometimes just seeing someone pay for their crimes with jail time was enough to satisfy it.

So far, in their war against HYDRA, none of the main combatants had actually died.  They were all in prison, where they would be spending the rest of their lives.  That sort of punishment settled the vows they’d all made and, in the event of an escape or some other action, would be called back into effect. 

Cadi knew, also, that her Tad had once made a Vow of Vengeance against her previous lover, John Hart, over the mess with her Uncle Gray.  That vow had been complicated because of certain actions by members of their family, who’d put Hart on the path to finding Gray.  It had been difficult for her Tad to accept the fact that John Hart had been meant to play the part he had, and that she, and Arthur and Merlin, had been the ones to push him toward that part.  And, when she’d taken John as a lover, that had been like a knife to her Tad’s heart, but he’d set aside his vow in favour of that relationship, and that John hadn’t been in control of his own actions, even when he’d thought he’d been making all the decisions himself.

There were times when she missed John, but he was never going to be more than a bed warmer for her, which had been a relief to both Tad and Dad.  Neither of them wanted to have John as her mate, considering her so much better than him.

John had been fun.  But he’d also been a visible reminder of how, sometimes, vengeance had to be set aside.

Not that she was going to do that in this circumstance.

But it didn’t mean she had to kill these two, either. 

Sometimes living was a far worse punishment.

“I ask again,” she addressed the pair, one of which was writhing on the floor in agony, “do you submit to our family and our vow?”

H was kneeling on the floor next to her partner, and the hiss she gave was quite dragon-like. 

“It’s up to you, sweetheart,” her Dad murmured, ceding control of the situation over to her totally.

“Then,” Cadi said, shifting her weight slightly and giving their prisoners a wide smile, “I think taking these two to Stormcage is the best plan.  They can hang out with the rest of HYDRA’s failures.”

“That is an excellent idea,” the Doctor agreed, pleased at her decision.  “Although, at this rate, Stormcage is going to become yet another HYDRA base, with all the prisoners we’re taking.” 

Jack laughed heartily.  “At least we’d know where to go if trouble started up again.”

“No smashing?” the Hulk sounded bitterly disappointed.

“You can smash anything in the warehouse you want to,” her Dad offered.  “I’m sure it’s all illegal goods anyway.”

“Awesome.”  With that parting word, Cadi could tell the Hulk was wandering off, just by the faint impact tremors caused by his footsteps. 

If H hadn’t been angry before, she was practically fuming now.

Cadi wondered just what was in the warehouse that they didn’t want destroyed, and discovered she really didn’t care all that much.

This part of the family vengeance was complete.  It was time for them to go home.

Hopefully, they would be in time to keep Tad from getting into too much trouble.

 

 

 


	48. Chapter 48

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Torchwood Central_ **

**_Earth_ **

****

“Ianto.”

“Melinda”

Torchwood’s current Second – and temporary Director while Phillip was away – stepped up next to Ianto as the dragon stared down at the vid feed from the cell where Adam was being held.  The rogue immortal seemed completely relaxed, as if he didn’t have a care in the universe, and it was setting Ianto’s teeth on edge.

His capture had been far too easy.

Ianto had expected some sort of ambush, at the least.  But Adam had been waiting for them, had made a couple of remarks that weren’t even worth the breath that it would take to respond to, and then Detective Walsh had calmly stunned him.  And nothing else happened.

It didn’t make any sense.

He said as much to Melinda.

“Who knows how Adam thinks?” she shrugged fatalistically.  “It’s isn’t as if he’s not as crazy as the proverbial bag of cats.”

He had to agree with that.

“No,” Henry piped up, “Ianto’s right.  Adam never does anything without some sort of back-up plan.  I think he wanted us to take him.”

The dragon turned to regard his son-by-mating.  Henry, along with Robyn, Anwyn, and Detective Walsh, were all standing in a small huddle in the corner of the security suite, looking as if they were planning some sort of mischief.  And, maybe they were.

“You have the most history with him, Henry,” Ianto said, “you think you could get him to talk?”

“I don’t think getting him to talk is the problem,” was the answer.  “It’s getting him to talk about what we want to know that’s going to be the issue.”

Ianto nodded, considering.  After the conversation at the British Museum, he could see Henry’s point. 

“This is also a trap for you, Ianto,” Henry reiterated what he’d said earlier.  “I’m willing to bet that he has the Dragon Slayer guarding Alyce and Detective Shraeger, and that Adam is just drawing this out in order to bother us.”

“You think he wants to be here,” Melinda observed.

Henry shrugged.  “I just don’t know why, although I think this is more about the chaos he could cause than any need to grab power.”

“So you think he wants to tell us, but just wants to spin it out until we do whatever he wants us to, to jump through whatever hoops he has set up for us.”  Ianto could see where that might actually be a viable plan.  Adam would most likely want to influence them to perform whatever tricks he thought might be fun to watch.

“It’s not like the Empire can enforce the death penalty in his case,” Anwyn sighed, crossing her arms over her chest almost defensively.  “And, if we imprison him, all he has to do is commit suicide and he’ll be free of wherever we stash him.”

She was correct.  Adam, being immortal like Henry, just had to die and he would resurrect somewhere else.  And there was no way to monitor every body of water on Earth, let alone any other planet.  Unless they found a nice desert planet somewhere…

And that was something else.  If Adam wanted to escape the cell he was in, he’d just have to kill himself, and despite their best efforts to remove anything from the room he was being held in that might contribute to his death, Ianto knew there were still ways to do the deed that didn’t require some sort of tool. 

No, Henry had it right.  Adam wanted to be there. 

“How do you hold a crazy immortal prisoner?” Walsh asked.  “A life sentence wouldn’t hold any real threat for him.”

As Ianto watched the man through the security cameras, he considered everyone’s opinion and Walsh’s question.

It came to him in a flash of inspiration.

“There’s one way to hold him.”

Everyone was staring at him.  “How do you propose to do that?” Henry demanded.

The dragon gave his son-by-mating a sly smile.  “Cryogenics.”

Henry blinked once, and then began to laugh.  “Oh, of course.”

It had worked with Gray.  They’d kept Jack’s brother frozen for millennia, and while there had been some worry about physical and mental damage after being in suspension for so long, it had turned out alright in the end…well, as alright as it could have been.  Gray was still in the Lost Lands, where the Fae were doing their best to heal his insanity.

Besides, cryogenics had improved leaps and bounds over what Torchwood had had available back in the 21st century, when Gray had first been interred.  There wouldn’t be any need to reawaken Adam every single year to make certain he was undamaged.  The only reason they hadn’t done that with Gray was the very real danger of him somehow escaping and wreaking more havoc than he had the first time.

Melinda was nodding.  “Torchwood has extensive cryogenic facilities on Hubworld, and I’m fairly certain that Her Imperial Majesty would go along with something like that.”

“If you agree,” Ianto turned to Torchwood’s current Second, “I’d like to run a little scare on our guest in there.”

He was graced with a pleased grin from the normally taciturn Melinda May. “Just what do you have in mind?”

Ianto explained.  It had Melinda – and pretty much everyone else – nodding in agreement.  “It might just work,” Torchwood’s Second replied.  “I can have everything ready in about thirty minutes.”

“And here I thought I was to be the one to interrogate him,” Henry snarked, although Ianto knew he was actually relieved to not have to actually do it.

 

**********

 

Ianto strode into the security room where Adam was being held, his face carefully held in an impassive mask as he regarded the man who looked so very much like Owen Harper that a part of him wanted nothing more than to hug him in glad welcome.

However, this wasn’t Owen.  Owen was on Hubworld, in the current form of a Polari, and not human at all.

Adam’s eyes flickered, amused, as Ianto entered, but then they darted to the person accompanying him.  Confusion was in the sudden, slow blink he gave, but then his attention was back on Ianto.  “Have you come to bargain for your daughter’s life?” he taunted.

“Actually, no,” Ianto answered calmly.  “I have no doubt that Alyce and Detective Shraeger are most likely dead at this point, so there’s no reason to continue on with this charade.”  He really didn’t think that, but he needed to convey to their prisoner that he _did_.  The dragon was calling on his grief for Sabrina to show in his own eyes, and he hoped that it would be enough to convince Adam that he wasn’t going to accept any sort of deal because the chess pieces Adam was going to use had been removed from the board.

One of the most difficult things to uphold was the ‘no negotiating with terrorists’ stance that Torchwood had long ago enacted, when it had to do with one of his own children. However, in this case, Ianto had realised it was the only thing he could do, if he wanted to get Alyce and Shraeger back in one piece.

That surprised Adam, whose eyes went wide.  Any sort of superiority he might have held vanished with Ianto’s statement.  “How can you be so sure of that?”

“Because you’re a terrorist, and you’re responsible for bringing HYDRA back to life, and that sort of being wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone standing in the way of that.  We have all the evidence we need of that fact.  So, no…you’ve already done away with Alyce and Casey, and you’re playing with us in order to get what you want.”

From what Henry had said, for Adam it was all about the chaos, and not the actual grab for power.  Everything that the mad immortal had done, had been to stir up a mess, and then he would proceed to sit back and watch the fallout.  There wouldn’t have been anything personal in it – well, except where Henry was concerned – and now that the plan was coming apart, there would be an attempt to make some sort of deal.

Ianto wasn’t about to do that.

He leaned over the table, resting his fists on the top, looming over the prisoner.  “Adam, or whatever your true name is, as Patriarch of my clan, it is my right to fulfil our Vow of Vengeance against you, for the deaths of my children, Sabrina and Alyce, and for the attempted murders of two others.  Do you submit?”

“You can’t kill me,” Adam scoffed, leaning back in his chair and giving the best impression ever of not being intimidated.  “I’ll only resurrect somewhere else.”

“Oh, I don’t intend to kill you.”  Ianto gave him a truly chilling smile, standing upright once more.  “You may be wondering who this is with me.”  He motioned toward his companion.  “Allow me to introduce you to Doctor Jemma Simmons.  She’s with Torchwood, in the capacity of Lead Biochemist.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ianto could see Jemma step forward.  He knew she was uncomfortable about being there, but would do what he needed her to do.  She’d been just as upset about what had happened as anyone else, and was willing to help in whatever way she could. 

She set her kit down on the tabletop, using her biometrics to open the lock, then flipping the latches and pulling it open to reveal the air injector and three vials of liquid that were cushioned on the inside; one of the vials had a clear fluid in it, another blue, and a third a pale green.

“So, it’s going to be torture then?”  Adam sounded blandly unimpressed, and from what Henry had told them about him, he would have been.  While Josef Mengele wasn’t the Master, the Nazi scientist had still known the best ways to torture a person with medicine.

That comment made Jemma flinch slightly.  “Not at all,” she said, sounding perfectly composed despite the nerves Ianto knew she was feeling.  “I’m here to prepare you.”

“For what?” Adam asked warily as she prepared the injector, pressing the clear vial into the slot for it at the base of the nozzle.

“Her Imperial Majesty,” Ianto said with relish, “has empowered me, as head of my clan, to name the punishment I feel is worthy of your crimes.  So, I have decided that you will be put into cryogenic suspension until such time as the universe ends.”  While that was technically true, Ianto had passed along the right to punish Adam to Henry.  Henry had just managed to adroitly pass it back.

“What?” Ah, now that had rattled the immortal. 

Ianto was glad of that.

It had been a gamble, really, that Adam would react to that threat.  However, Henry had explained the coma he’d once put the mad immortal into, in order to stop his rampage, and in vengeance for the death of Henry’s former wife.  Ianto had wondered how Adam would handle that sort of threat again, and in many ways cryonics would be worse; after all, in a coma there was always a chance that Adam could escape through his dying in some way.  But from suspension, there would be no chance of that. 

“There will be no escape,” the dragon continued.  “There will be special instructions regarding the care of your cryotube.  Oh, you _might_ be brought out of it for your trial, but the evidence against you is overwhelming.  So, the Empress is quite content to leave it all up to me.”

Jemma stepped around the table, armed with the injector.  With a bit more force than was strictly necessary – well, not in Ianto’s opinion, anyway – she grabbed Adam by the hair, wrenched his head back to expose the long muscle in his neck, and rammed the injector home.  With a hiss, the liquid bubbled into the immortal, who jerked back at the invasion.

“You have five minutes, Second Jones,” Jemma reported clinically, “before it’s time for the next injection.”

“Is the cryochamber ready?”

“Yes, Doctor Fitz has prepped it, and he’s only waiting for us to bring the prisoner out to it.  There’s a gurney just outside.”

“Thank you, Doctor Simmons.”

If he had to admit it, Ianto was getting a certain pleasure out of Adam’s obvious discomfiture over the idea of being frozen forever.  It really was the best way to keep him restrained, because Anwyn had been correct: there would always be the chance that Adam would simply kill himself in order to escape, and they couldn’t risk that. 

Ianto wasn’t usually a cruel person, but there were exceptions to that.  This was one of them.

“You might feel a cold sensation shortly,” Jemma told Adam.  “That’s perfectly normal.”

“You can’t do this!” Adam shouted. 

“You’ll find that I can,” Ianto countered serenely. 

“I have rights!”

“You have nothing.  The Empress has placed your fate in my hands.”  He’d made certain of that, contacting Danielle on Throneworld to tell her about the plan. 

That was when he’d learned that Adam had been the one to discover the Pendragon Protocol, and while a part of him was angry that the immortal had used Peyton Redmond’s affections to get the information, another part had to wonder if that was how it had all started.  Had Adam really felt anything for Redmond?  Or had it all been a plot from the very beginning?

He supposed he could ask, but the dragon doubted Adam would give him a straight answer.

Learning about Danielle’s father’s identity had been a surprise as well.  Ianto and Jack both had simply assumed that Juliana had simply gotten pregnant through artificial means, in order to have an heir to the throne.  It was a sad story, and it certainly explained a few things, but it also made Ianto a little angry on Juliana’s behalf.  Having to choose between her lover and the throne…that had been unconscionable in Ianto’s opinion.  To him, it had meant that Redmond’s affections hadn’t been all that strong, if he’d been unable to accept Juliana’s role in ruling the Empire.  It had been selfish of him to even ask her to do something like that.

Ianto would have never demanded that Jack give up Torchwood for him.  It had led to a few misunderstandings in their relationship, one of those involving their eldest daughter, but Ianto knew the value of destiny and duty and it never would have occurred to him to even make that sort of ultimatum.  He just couldn’t understand how someone could profess to love a person, and then demand they choose between them and something else of equal importance. 

It didn’t make any sense to him, but then he wasn’t Peyton Redmond, and he didn’t understand the man’s motives.

“In fact,” he added, “the Empress asked that we pipe this feed to her on Throneworld, so she can watch the man who betrayed her father get what he deserves.”

There was a very minute flinch, and Ianto would have missed it if he hadn’t been watching for it.

“That’s not how it happened,” Adam denied softly.

“Then you didn’t pretend to be dead, so you could resurrect a defunct terrorist organisation with the express purpose on bringing the Empire to its knees?”

“Alright, yes…I did all that.  But I had my reasons…”

“And I’m quite certain they were good ones…at least, to your own mind.  But those reasons have led you here, and you’re not going to escape your just punishment this time around.  Doctor Simmons?”

Jemma was fiddling again with the injector, the pale green fluid set into the device this time.  “Another two minutes, Sir.”

“Then I have a little more time to read out the list of crimes against you.”  Ianto took a couple of steps back, to lean against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and a foot lifted to rest on the permacrete material. 

“I don’t think we have enough time for that, Sir,” Jemma sassed back.

He gave her a winning smile, one that he’d seen his mate give on more than one occasion.  “You have a point, Doctor.  The list is far too long for that.  I should just stick with the highlights, then.”  He turned his attention back to Adam.  “There’s the attack on Euros; the attempted kidnapping of Crown Price Joshua; the murder of my daughters – “

“Alyce is still alive,” the immortal interrupted.

“We have no proof of life.”  Although, despite his words, Ianto’s heart thudded painfully in his chest at the news that his youngest was still alive out there.  “Then, there’s the doomsday weapon that Derek Anthony and Morgause Gorlois was working on; the revival of past life memories against a person’s will – “

“Which isn’t a crime.”

“It is on Lorelai,” Jemma put in.  “I’m sure my people would frown on that sort of thing.”

“There you go.”  Ianto motioned toward his friend.  “There’s all the various kidnappings that would take more than a few minutes to detail; assault on a police officer; theft; several attempted murders; the attempted overthrow of the government; bombing the Imperial Palace…”

“It’s time, Sir.”

“Go right ahead, Doctor Simmons.”

Adam moved away from Jemma as she approached with the injector.  Ianto smoothly moved around the table in order to keep him from getting up, resting both hands heavily on the immortal’s shoulders.  Jemma made the same hair grab, injecting the second fluid in a sudden jab. Adam actually yelped as Ianto released him.

“You might feel a little drowsy,” Jemma said without prompting.  “If he falls asleep on you, Sir, it’s because of the compound.”

“Thank you for the warning.”  He went back to leaning against the wall.

Adam was beginning to look more than a little worried, judging from how much of the white of his eyes Ianto could now see.  “Please don’t do this.”

“It’s a little late for that.”

Honestly, Ianto was enjoying just how much Adam was becoming unnerved.  When he’d suggested this course, he really had hoped it would rattle the man this much. 

“Look,” the dragon sighed, “we know that you being here suits some purpose you have.  We just don’t know what that is.  Why don’t you tell us what your plan is?  Or did you think we were going to just send you to prison?” 

Oh, that had to be it.  For an immortal with millennia of experience under his belt, he could certainly be easy to read.

“You wanted to be sent to prison, didn’t you?  To Stormcage?”  Ianto gave the immortal a hard smirk.  “After all, that’s where all of your accomplices are.  What did you think?  That you could run HYDRA from behind bars?”  He shook his head, impressed despite himself.  “You thought you could run a terrorist group from Stormcage, and when things happened it couldn’t be traced back to you.  What…did you think you could put some sort of puppet in charge of the Empire in place of the Imperial family, and that they’d release you?”

Adam didn’t answer.  Ianto could be wrong, but the dragon doubted it.  It made too much sense, really, to be anything but the truth. 

“We can’t let that happen.  HYDRA needs to die once more, and never be brought back.  You’ll be safely put away, and that’s that.”

“You have three more minutes, Sir.  You can rant a little bit more if you’d like.”

Ianto gave her a single, raised eyebrow, and Jemma almost fumbled the last ampoule when she laughed.  She’d just broken character, but the dragon didn’t think that was all that important anymore, and he really needed the mood breaker.  “I don’t think Adam’s appreciating it that much anymore, to be honest.”

It was true; Adam’s eyelids were drooping. 

“That means he’s about ready, then,” Jemma reported.  She put down the refilled injector, sliding around the end of the table to rest light fingers against the immortal’s pulse point at his neck.  Then she gave a satisfied nod of the head, the delicate antenna waving pleasantly.  “You’re good to go, Sir.”

Ianto smiled, relaxing just enough to perch on the edge of the table, looking down at the drowsy prisoner.  “Now, I think it’s time you tell me exactly where Alyce and Casey are, and what we’re going to be dealing with there.”

The second injection wasn’t strictly a truth serum.  They’d learned, a long time ago, that truth serums really didn’t work all that well.  There were too many different ways of beating it; Ianto, himself, had been exposed to a couple in his time, and knew how to do just that, so in the end they really couldn’t be trusted enough to be used.

With this sort of blend, the prisoner had to be prepped for it.  He had to be convinced that the formula was something completely different…such as, one part of a compound that would prepare Adam for cryogenic freeze.  It didn’t hurt that Adam really didn’t want to be frozen because it would cut off any chance of escape and the ability to keep on running HYDRA from behind the scenes.  Fooling Adam into thinking that this _wasn’t_ something that would make him receptive to talking had been half the battle, and even then it might not have worked.  It was why they hadn’t really tried it on any of their other HYDRA prisoners…it was simply too hit and miss to risk it, and it took too much work to prepare the subject.

This particular formula simply lowered the inhibitions, and it didn’t hurt that Adam had wanted to lead them into a trap in the first place. He wanted them to go after his hostages and walk right into the trap he’d set.  Adam had truly believed he could manipulate events, and Ianto was willing to bet he would have attempted some sort of deal once Jemma had been about to give him the last shot, which really was what was needed to put Adam into a deep sleep, in preparation for cryofreeze, just as the first one had been to get the body ready for such a shock to it as the freezing process was.

It had been a risk that Ianto had been prepared to make.  It had seemed like a really good idea when he’d come up with it.

So, when Adam began bragging about where he’d been holding Alyce and Detective Shraeger and what sort of defences there were, Ianto knew he was being honest.  Because Adam _wanted_ them to go there, and walk right into a mess. 

It was time to take the fight to HYDRA once more.

 

 


	49. Chapter 49

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Imperial Throneworld_ **

****

“My people,” Danielle began, standing on the stage that had been set up for her at the Playground, the Imperial Seal on the wall behind her, her back straight and looking every inch the Ruler of the Human Empire.

Steve’s Second, Valentina Fosse, had been put in charge of preparing the teleconference that was just starting, arranging for the camera crews and vetting the reporters that were present for the event.  Clint had to admit, she’d done a really good job of it, the room resembling the Imperial briefing suite as much as possible.  After all, the official one was now buried under tons of rubble.

The only main difference was that Danielle wasn’t wearing the usual robes she did on these occasions but then, those were also buried under the rubble of the Palace as well.  Someone had managed to tailor an outfit that closely resembled the uniforms of the Shieldsmen: black tunic and trousers, only without the Shieldsmen’s crest on it. This one was unadorned, almost funereal, and entirely appropriate for the subject matter being spoken of today.

“Thank you all for your steadfast support in this time of trouble,” the Empress went on sombrely.  “We are very grateful to you all for coming together with your prayers and well-wishes.  Myself, my Consort, and my son are all well and unharmed, and are under the protection of our Shieldsmen, and of other, various, agencies that have stepped forward to lend us aid.

“Most of you will have not been aware that there has been an upsurge of terrorist activity within the Empire, all of it instigated by a group calling itself HYDRA.  Their first act of aggression was at the Festival of the Masks on Euros, where they were responsible for bombing several buildings, killing many innocent people.”

It had been decided not to mention the incursion at the Great Library.  Phillip had explained that people didn’t really need to know that there was an evil magical book out there, even though it had been dumped into a star after the fact.  It would have cast a shadow over the use of magic, and that was something Merlin and the school did not need.  Besides, they didn’t really want an uptick in people trying to loot the Library for anything else and, as a consequence, disturbing the already irate Vashta Nerada.

Clint was pretty proud of himself for coming up with the idea of disposing of the Darkhold in the nearest sun.  No one would be able to get it from there.

Danielle went on to explain about Thoros and Zygos Beta, and then about the aborted kidnapping of Prince Joshua.  “HYDRA also was responsible for the death of a Torchwood operative, Sabrina Jones-Swann, a member of the race of Star Dragons.  This brought the Star Dragons into this conflict as well, which eventually led them into battle against one of HYDRA’s terrorist cells.  During that battle, they were able to take out one of the many heads of HYDRA, as well as a prototype for a doomsday weapon HYDRA was hoping to use against us.”

Phillip had argued against this much transparency.  But then, Clint’s mate had had spycraft written into his DNA at a very early age.  Danielle did agree not to name too many names, saying it wasn’t necessary for everyone to know just who HYDRA had been holding and using for their nefarious purposes.

Yes, she’d actually used the word ‘nefarious’.

As the teleconference continued, Clint glanced over at his mate.  Phillip was standing just next to him, at the side of the stage, looking pensive as Danielle went on to explain more of events leading up to the attack on the Palace.  Well, he looked pensive to Clint, who knew his mate’s expressions and mannerisms as well as the dragon knew his own.  To anyone else, Phillip would appear to be calm, cool, and very collected as their Empress recounted the Star Dragons’ Vow of Vengeance, and how HYDRA had come after them because of it…also, not naming any names. 

Clint reached over and took his mate’s hand, and while Phillip didn’t look at him, he did clutch onto that grasp tightly, the coolness of his flesh a sharp contrast against Clint’s overheated skin. 

Danielle eventually got to the bombing of the Palace.  “We have captured the one responsible for placing the bomb within the Palace, and will reveal their identity at a later time; as of now, the investigation is still ongoing, and we do not wish to tip our hands and give anyone else involved a chance to cover their tracks.”

Clint had been glad that Danielle had taken both Steve and Phillip’s advice about not letting it get out that a team was being sent to Trafusis, and that meant not giving the identity of the would-be assassin away.  That way, none of the evidence on Trafusis – if any – would be tainted when the investigators arrived.

“It has also come to our attention that the leader of this plot has been taken on Earth,” the Empress continued.  “Once again, we cannot reveal their identity at this time, but rest assured, my people… there will be a trial, and they will face the totality of Imperial law, as well as the laws of the planets and people that they have touched.  Hopefully, their reign of terror will be over soon.”

When Tad had called in to say they had Adam, Clint had felt nothing but relief.  He and Phillip were going to be leaving for Earth as soon as the teleconference was over, to join the rest of the family in their final attack on HYDRA, and to get Alyce and Detective Shraeger back. 

Clint wasn’t sure about the trial part, because Tad had said they would be freezing their crazy immortal attacker, but knew there would be at least something to show for public consumption.  It would be needed, after everything, and Tad had known that and accepted it when Danielle had mentioned it.  It would be arranged at some point, and Clint hoped it was far down the road.

“And now, I wish to recognise those who have been of the utmost help in this time of trouble,” Danielle said.  “I wish to thank the Star Dragons, and their Patriarchs, Ianto Jones and Jack Harkness, for lending their support to us and for being on the front lines of this war with HYDRA.  As so many of you were witness to, it was the Star Dragons who came to our aid first when the Palace was destroyed, and who were responsible for saving so many lives.  Of the most important mention are: Arthur Pendragon; Merlin Williams-Song; Clint Jones-Coulson; Nathan Jones-Coulson; Nicole Jones-Coulson; and Lisa Harkness-Jones.  They were the ones everyone saw on camera as they pulled people from the damaged Palace and helped hold it up using their own personal magics.

“But, of them all, a special thank you goes out to Phillip Coulson-Jones, the current Director of the Torchwood Institute, without whom we would not be standing here now, speaking with you.  It was his magic that held the tower, that made it possible for those within to get to safety.  He is a friend of this Empire, and deserves every single accolade we can grant him.”

With that, Danielle looked down at the crowd, right at Phillip who didn’t look happy at the attention but accepted it.  He nodded once, and then stepped up onto the stage, taking place at Danielle’s right shoulder, a sure sign of his total support of her and of the Empire.  He seemed completely at ease in front of the cameras, but Clint could see just how uncomfortable his mate was. 

Clint knew it was only going to get worse.

Applause echoed through the room as reporters and onlookers both gave their own adulation to Phillip, who simply inclined his head, giving them all a gentle smile.  He was dressed in his full Torchwood uniform, one that had been sent on by Melinda May, as if she’d known this was going to happen. 

Yeah, Melinda had totally known.

Clint couldn’t have been prouder of his mate.  An arm looped through his, and Clint glanced down at Nicole, who was standing beside him, opposite from where Phillip had been.  Nathan stepped up to take that position, with Lisa beside him, all of them a united front for their loved one up on the stage, who was accepting the accolades with poise and grace, even if Phillip wasn’t feeling that way on the inside.

“For longer than memory,” the Empress said, “dragons have lived on the planet Earth.  They were nearly destroyed by humans who were ignorant of their draconic neighbours, until only one was left.  That single dragon, Ianto Jones, the Torchwood Dragon, put aside his understandable hatred of humanity and decided to fight for the very people who nearly committed genocide against his race.  Now, there are the Star Dragons, the children of Ianto Jones and Jack Harkness, and they live on Earth in the ancestral home of dragonkind.”

Clint frowned.  Just what was Danielle up to? 

“The Star Dragons have long been recognised as their own people, but they have shared the Earth with humans and other races.  As more and more of them are born, this needs to change.”

Oh, Goddess.  Clint’s mouth dropped open as he realised just what she was going to say next. 

“As of this moment, I am granting the Star Dragons their own sovereign world, to be chosen by the Patriarchs.  They may do whatever they wish with it, as soon as one is found or made to be suitable.  This is their reward for every single bit of service they have given this Empire, going back to before there even _was_ an Empire.”

Shit. Dad and Tad were going to have a fit if they were seeing this.

Tad had talked about it just a couple of days ago.  That Danielle had suggested they get their own homeworld.  But there were very real considerations to be had, and Clint knew that Tad had meant to bring it up in a family meeting once this mess with HYDRA was done.  It looked as if that choice had been taken away from him, and that it was now out there in the open for anyone to hear.

Honestly, Clint thought the idea of having their own world was a good one.  It was just that there were so many hurdles involved with picking up and moving to one.  The Great Dragons, for one…they were bound to the Earth, and unless Merlin could come up with something Clint didn’t see how transplanting them would be possible. 

Also, there was Tad and all the adopted siblings, plus all those unopened eggs back home.  Each and every one of them would also be bound to the planet, and would need to return to Earth every six hundred years or else get sick.  They needed to consider that before they could even think about relocating.

It was being taken out of their hands, though.  Clint wasn’t so sure he liked that all that much, and could only imagine the words his parents were going to have with Danielle when they got the opportunity.

“Now, in conclusion, once again I would like to offer my heartfelt thanks to everyone, to the ones who supported us, and to the ones who have lost friends or loved ones to HYDRA’s deprivations.  Rest easy, in that soon these terrorists will be rooted out and taken into custody, to bother our peaceful Empire no more.  My people, we love you all, and hope that you will now rest easily in the knowledge that things will be back to normal shortly.” 

With those closing words, Danielle bowed diffidently to the cameras, showing in actions as well as her words just what it meant to her to have every Imperial citizen in her corner.  Phillip did the same, and then he bowed to Danielle as well, leaving the stage once he was done. 

The expression of relief on his face once he was away from the cameras was almost adorable.

“Well,” he said as he stood in front of Clint and his family, “that last little announcement is going to be quite a shock.”

Something in Clint’s face must have said otherwise, because Phillip frowned.  “Or…maybe not?”

Busted. 

“Tad said that Danielle had mentioned it, during his and Dad’s first visit to Throneworld.  He was going to bring it up in a family meeting once this crap with HYDRA was done.  Before this, only me, Alyce, and Robyn knew about it.”

Phillip shook his head, and then ushered them all out of the conference room into the corridor beyond.  “I’ve already arranged for Steve to let us transmat to Earth,” he said as they walked.  “We’ll be meeting Ianto at Torchwood Central.”

They’d received a comm call from Tad before Danielle’s teleconference, explaining what had happened with Adam and that he knew now where the Dragon Slayer was, and where Alyce and that detective were being held.  He’d made the decision to get as many of the family as they could to Earth before going on the attack, wanting all of them there when they finally achieved their vengeance.  Tad had said he would attempt to get in touch with Dad on Trafusis, to which Phillip had said he’d take care of it.

For some reason, Clint’s mate had always had some sort of affinity with the Doctor’s psychic paper.  No one could explain it, but it was Phillip’s way of communication of choice when they needed to reach the Time Lord.  It had taken just a few seconds to send the message to the paper and, if the Doctor saw it and piloted the TARDIS the right way, they would most likely beat them to Earth.

“Phillip,” Steve calling out to them halted the family in their tracks. 

As one, they spun to face the Grand Master, who was walking up behind them.  Steve had a wry smile on his face.  “Were you all thinking about running off without saying goodbye?  Because you know Prince Joshua would be upset if you did.”

Steve didn’t play fair.  They each adored Joshua, and the last thing any of them wanted to do was upset him in any way. 

“David and Joshua are actually at the transmat,” he added teasingly.  “Danielle knew you’d want to leave immediately, and David volunteered to stay with Joshua while he waited for you all.  Arthur and Merlin should also be there shortly.”

Neither Arthur nor Merlin had attended the teleconference, Arthur claiming that he didn’t want to take attention away from Danielle and her address.  Merlin had rolled his eyes and called Arthur one of those weird nicknames he had for Arthur, that were supposed to be rude but were really meant to be adoring.  Honestly, if anyone didn’t know the pair of them, they would have sworn that, sometimes, they hated each other.

 Clint thought it was cute.  So did the entire family.

“They might not have been in the room,” Lisa teased, “but they certainly got a mention in the speech, along with the rest of us.”

“Something that Arthur is going to absolutely loathe,” Nathan added, laughing.

“I take it, he and Merlin saw the speech?” Phillip enquired as they accompanied Steve toward the Shieldsman’s transmat terminal.

“Oh yes,” Steve snorted.  “And Nathan’s right…he wasn’t best pleased.”

“He should have expected it,” Clint pointed out.  “He got name-dropped just after the bombing, and he was all over the newsfeeds during the rescues.”

“The good thing about it is that he shouldn’t have to worry about people wondering about his intentions now,” the Grand Master pointed out.  “Neither his, nor Phillip’s.  You’re both heroes.”

“Not something I ever really set out to be,” Phillip murmured.

Clint couldn’t help himself; he reached out and took his mate’s hand.  “You’ve always been a hero to me.”

Phillip shook his head fondly.  “That was incredibly sappy.”

“And you love it,” the dragon answered happily.

Steve just rolled his eyes at them, not that they didn’t deserve it.  Things had been so tense lately, that a little sappiness was a good thing.

Really, Clint wanted all of this to be over.  They would go and get Alyce, and Detective Shraeger, and put the rest of HYDRA down, and then they could go home.  Even though Nathan and Nicole were with them, Clint dearly missed Daisy and Skylar.  Daisy was growing up so very fast, and Skylar was healing, and neither of them had their parents there.  Certainly, Skylar understood, but Daisy was too young.  She didn’t know why she was seeing her fathers and brother and sister but couldn’t reach out to them, when they did call home. 

Clint hadn’t even mentioned yet that Daisy had, somehow, recognised Toshiko.

That was something they would deal with, in time.  For now, Clint just wanted to go home and cuddle with his entire family.  He was tired of all of this shit happening to them. 

He had hope that it was nearly over.

The Shieldsmen’s transmat was the only one on Throneworld, and could only be used with a specific set of codes that only a handful of people had.  All the Directors of Torchwood had those codes, as did the head of the Adjudicator’s Guild, and a couple of others.  It was set up in a cubby in an out of the way area of the Playground, and yes, Arthur and Merlin were there, waiting for them.  Arthur looked very put out, and the expression would never cease to be funny to Clint since it made him look constipated.  Not that he’d ever say that to his nephew, because Arthur could wield Excalibur and that sword was damned scary.

David and Joshua were there, as well.  The Imperial Consort had a smile on his face as he held his son’s hand.  “That went well, didn’t it?”

Phillip sighed.  “If you say so.”

That got a full-blown laugh, David inordinately pleased with himself over the speech he’d written for his wife. 

“I thought it was a great speech,” Clint replied.

“Thank you,” David grinned.

“Mama did really well, didn’t she?” Joshua asked, his eyes bright.

“Yep, she did,” Clint agreed.

The Prince pulled free of his father’s grasp and came to stand in front of Phillip.  Clint watched as his mate knelt in front of the child.  “You promised me a story, Director Phillip,” Joshua reminded.  “I wanna know about the Ghost Rider.”

“And I always keep my promises,” Phillip said.  “But our family need us right now.”

“They do.  But you’ll be back, won’t you?”

“Yes, I will.” 

“And we need to make your figure, too.”

Phillip gave the boy a soft smile.  “Only for you, Joshua.”

“Alright.  But don’t forget, because I don’t want Quake to feel lonely for too long.”

“I won’t forget.”

“You can bring Daisy with you next time.  And Skylar, too.  I hope he feels better soon.”

“I’m sure he will, and I’ll be sure to tell him you said so.”

Joshua wrapped his arms around Phillip’s neck, and the immortal carefully hugged back, and Clint could swear he saw the glimmer of a tear in his mate’s eye.  Phillip Coulson-Jones was a bad arse, but he was a bad arse with a soft, squishy centre.

Clint, as well as everyone else, collected hugs from the prince as well, and then they were all on the transmat platform.  He might have been looking forward to seeing the rest of the family, but Clint _wasn’t_ looking forward to the rampant nausea that transmatting through the planetary shield would cause.

He reached across and clasped Phillip’s hand.  His mate turned to glance at him, smiling as Steve let them know that the tech on the controls was ready to transport them.

“Let me know the moment you have a plan in place,” the Grand Master requested, “and I’ll send who I can to help out.”

“We will,” Phillip promised.”

The tech nodded that he was ready to send them on.

Clint had to let go of his mate’s hand for that, but that was fine.  He could hold it again later.

 

 

 


	50. Chapter 50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just another short chapter to clear up a couple loose ends....

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Trafusis_ **

****

The clean-up at the warehouse took hardly any time at all…in that there wasn’t as much as there could have been, what with sudden appearance of the Incredible Hulk.

The Doctor was fairly impressed that the Hulk didn’t make more of a mess, but then the Big Guy seemed to be pretty much in control all of the time.

And no, he hadn’t been charmed by the fist bump that the Hulk and Jack had shared.  He certainly didn’t want to do that himself.

Yes, he was pretty much lying to himself.

To be honest, though, he’d been a little surprised by the Hulk’s appearance.  The Doctor had seen historical records of the Avengers’ battles – not having witnessed them himself, as his Tenth self had been sulking at the time, and his current persona hadn’t had a chance to go and see for himself – and he recalled that the Hulk had been large, green and fairly terrifying.

The images hadn’t really shown the sheer impressiveness of Bruce Banner’s angry alter ego.

At the same, it was obvious that the Hulk was as old as his frail, human counterpart.  His hair was completely white, a glaring contrast against the jade green skin.  There were wrinkles around the eyes and mouth, and there was an age in the dark, rage-filled eyes that really told the tale, of just how ancient they really were. 

Still, that didn’t detract at all from the absolute awesomeness of the being. 

It could be that the Doctor was fanboying just a tad.

Not that he’d ever condone how Banner became the Hulk, but it was an instance of someone turning a terrible thing into something heroic, and it was impressive.

Jack and Cadi had tied up H and G and had tossed them both into the TARDIS just before Trafusis Security Forces arrived on scene, brought by reports of loud noises in the area.  The Hulk also tucked himself into the time machine, not wanting to be taken into custody.

Not that Jack would have let that happen, the Doctor was sure of it.

By the time security was mollified by Jack’s explanations, it was getting late, planet-time.  At this point in most adventures, the Doctor would have already left for another space and time, but for once he hung around, watching Jack work his magic on the head of security and busily being quietly impressed by his former companion.

Jack had done the one thing that the Doctor hardly ever did: he’d stayed around and managed the clean-up. 

Well, except for this time, but since they were all wanting to take H and G to Stormcage – and get some medical care for G – and then go home.

Cadi was watching her father talk to the authorities, and the Doctor sidled over to her.  She seemed to be deep in thought, and he asked, “Penny for them?”

Her brows drew down in confusion, which cleared as she finally recognised what he was asking.  “Just thinking.”  She took a deep breath. “I wanted nothing more than to kill both of them, you know?  But, when it came down to it…”

The Time Lord genially knocked his shoulder into hers.  “Sometimes death is far too kind.”

She chuckled self-deprecatingly.  “Yeah, you have a point.”

“You did good in there.”

He really was proud of her.  He wouldn’t have condemned her for taking the family’s Vow of Vengeance to its rather deadly conclusion, but the Doctor was well aware that, sometimes, that just wasn’t good enough.  That killing an enemy didn’t really help all that much. 

He suspected that Cadi already knew that, deep down, but this had been an extraordinary circumstance.  This had been family, and tempers always ran hotter when loved ones were involved.

Cadi let herself lean against him.  The Doctor felt honoured that she believed in him that much.  “Is that offer to travel with you still open?”

The Time Lord couldn’t help the brilliant smile he gave her.  “You know it.”

She sighed contentedly.  “I’ve been giving it some thought.  You know, back when River brought all those dragon eggs home, I really believed I could wrap things up and settle down.  That didn’t happen, but I think I know why.”

“Oh?”

“It’s because I don’t know how to be anything else but a criminal.”

The Doctor nodded.  “You could be right.”

“I’ve heard the stories of how you helped Dad become a better man – “

“Jack had that already within him.  He just needed a little push to bring it out.”  He was amazed that she was willing to believe in him that much, especially after what his previous regeneration had done…although, it had been his Ninth self who’d had Jack travelling with him, and the Doctor was aware that Jack gave the credit for helping the immortal turn his life around to that particular one.  It made the Doctor feel even more guilty about abandoning him on the Gamestation.

“Well, maybe I need that push, too.”

“I don’t think it’ll take too much,” the Doctor said confidently.  “You’re already a good person, Cadi.  You just have a different way of going about things.”

“Nine times out of ten that’s the illegal way.”

“Sometimes that’s the way it needs to go.  Even I’ve relied on the wrong side of the law at times.”

“No!” she scoffed, mock-surprised. “Not you!”

The Doctor laughed.  “Yes, me – “

Suddenly, he felt something shift in his coat pocket.  Startled, the Doctor reached in, and found that it was his psychic paper. 

There was really only a handful of people who knew how to reach him through the psychic paper.

“What is it?” Cadi asked, concerned.

The Doctor flipped open the wallet that held the paper.  Writing was forming on its surface.

_Go to Torchwood Central, Earth.  Ianto captured Adam, knows where Alyce and Detective Shraeger are being held.  Will meet you there._

_Phillip._

_PS: The Empress is holding a teleconference.  It’s bound to be dire._

Cadi snorted.  “Oh, I bet it is.”

The Doctor glanced at her, and she met his eyes.  Then, he looked away, bellowing, “Jack!” at the top of his lungs.

That got the immortal’s attention.  Jack said something to the man in charge of the security forces, then moved toward them, his greatcoat billowing out dramatically behind him.  Sometimes he wondered if that coat had developed some sort of sentience over the centuries of being exposed to Jack’s version of the vortex, and then dismissed it.  There was no way that was the original coat.

He'd have to ask Ianto if that was the original coat.

“What’s up?” Jack asked as he approached.

The Doctor showed him the psychic paper.  He had no idea how Phillip had gained such a rapport with the thing, but he was glad of it.  It meant the ice mage could contact him whenever he needed to. 

Jack was nodding as he read the message.  “We should head out, then.”

“We’ll make a stop at Stormcage and drop off the newest residents,” the Doctor said, “and we can be back on Earth in a tick.”

“I think I’ll be staying here, if you don’t mind.”

All three of them glanced toward the TARDIS, and the familiar voice coming from the doorway.  Banner stood there, looking exhausted, but back to his usual self.  He’d somehow found clothes to replace the ones that had gotten destroyed when he’d Hulked out, and the Time Lord thought the maroon trousers might have once belonged to his Fourth incarnation.  The matching coat certainly did, and it swamped the slighter man.  He wouldn’t have found the scarf, though; that had been unravelled by his Fifth self while suffering from regeneration sickness.

He really missed that scarf.

“I have my life here,” Banner went on.  “And my daughter will be home from school soon.”

Jack held out his hand to their old friend.  “Anytime you want to visit, just let us know.”

“I shall.”

The Doctor got the impression that Banner would be calling at some point.  “And, once this is over, I’ll be back to see about cleaning up some of the messes around here.”

“And I’ll be coming with him,” Cadi said. 

Jack was grinning at that.  “Travelling in the TARDIS is amazing, sweetheart.  You should get your turn.”

The Doctor had to wonder how Jack had guessed that he’d asked Cadi to accompany him, but didn’t ask.  He was just a little afraid of the answer.

“We could really use your help,” Banner said.  “Oh, I borrowed these.  You can get them when you come back.  I’ll make sure they’re cleaned.”

The Doctor waved him off.  “Don’t worry about it.”  He’d get them back at some point, he was certain, but to be honest he probably wouldn’t wear them ever again, and was only keeping the outfit for sentimental reasons. 

“Say goodbye to Adrastea for me,” Cadi requested.  “Let her know I’ll be back soon.”

With that, she leaned forward and kissed Banner, although this time it was decidedly chaste.  “I will,” the scientist agreed, once the kissing was done.

Banner stepped back.  “Be careful, all of you.  I’ll look forward to seeing you again.”

“Count on it,” the Doctor vowed.

With that final word, he stepped into the TARDIS, followed by Cadi and Jack.  He flipped open the wallet holding the psychic paper and checked the message once more, darting about the console to set the coordinates for first Stormcage, then Torchwood Central; he’d been there once, back during that mess with GenCorp, just before Merlin had been reborn.  At the time, he hadn’t admitted that his inside knowledge of events had come from his own son; that would have been a bit difficult to explain, that a three-year-old boy had been the one to warn him about what was going to occur. 

Now, everyone knew about the source of his information.  But back then, the Doctor had been determined to make amends to Jack, and to Ianto, and so he’d kept quiet about the truth, because of timelines. 

That meant that he also hadn’t admitted that he’d already met Cadi and Anwyn…

Which, by now, everyone knew about as well.  He’d had to wait until after events, of course, but that was fine. 

With his usual flourish, the Doctor sent the TARDIS into the vortex.  “Next stop, Stormcage, and then Torchwood Central.”  He couldn’t wait for all of this to be over.  While he hadn’t regretted a single moment of staying in one time for as long as he had, to be perfectly honest his feet were beginning to itch again, and it was only a matter of time before he was off again. 

Merlin seemed to be fine, as did Phillip.  River, he really didn’t believe he had anything to be concerned about.  What was going on with the TARDIS was still a bit bothersome, but she chastised him for worrying, a slight smack against his frontal lobe that had him snorting under his breath.

But he wouldn’t stay away for long.  Not anymore.  Now, he had a reason to come back, and he would. 

He’d have a new companion, as well.  A part of him couldn’t wait until Clara met Cadi, but at the same time the Doctor wanted to travel with Cadi a bit, get her broken in, as it were.  He wanted to spend time with Cadi before bringing Clara into the mix.  It would also mean he could put off bringing up the subject of his family with his current companion.  He’d put it off for so long, a little while longer wouldn’t hurt.

For now, he was going to help clear things up the best he could. 

It was nearly over.

Then the Doctor could go travelling again, knowing that everyone was going to be alright, that those he was worried about were in good hands.

He was looking forward to it, and although he’d always have a home to come back to now his feet were figuratively itching to send the TARDIS out into the vortex with no idea on where he would end up. 

He just would have a place to return to whenever he was ready.

 

 


	51. Chapter 51

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_London Island_ **

****

The main conference room in the Torchwood Central Tower was almost full to bursting.

Ianto had taken the seat at the head of the large table, as was his right as Patriarch of the clan.  The seat to his right was empty, waiting for his mate to arrive, which he hoped would be soon.  He was outwardly calm, but inside his heart was hammering fit to burst, and it was taking all his self-control to sit there and wait, when he wanted to be up and taking the battle to what he hoped was the last outpost for HYDRA.

Thanks to Adam, they knew what they were dealing with.  In a way.

Most of the family had already arrived from Ddraig Llyn; they were still expecting Phillip and the others from Throneworld, and Jack and the TARDIS crew.  The only ones not there were Rowena and Skylar, both still too hurt to change into their human forms; and Gareth, Carys, and Jocelyn, who’d volunteered to stay behind with them; Abraham had come along, having sworn his own Vow of Vengeance against the man who’d hurt his mother, and wanting to be with his father when it was fulfilled.  Ianto knew the three of them had not wanted to be left behind, but someone had needed to be, in case either Rowena or Skylar needed something.  However, the vidscreen had been set up with a link back to home, and they could easily sit in on the meeting that was to come.

Together, they’d watched Danielle’s address, and the room was buzzing not only with the upcoming fight with HYDRA, but of Danielle’s announcement that the family would be getting a planet of their own.  Ianto still wasn’t at all sure how that was going to work, and it was a subject for another time, but there was a part of him that was secretly looking forward to it.  A wide sky for their family to fly in and explore, to be free from having to be concerned with flight paths and satellite surveillance.  Ddraig Llyn might have been proclaimed a no-fly zone for man-made vehicles, but that didn’t stop them completely.  So many times over the years they’d had to report unauthorised travel over the valley, and it would be nice not to have to worry about that sort of thing any longer.

Not only were members of the family present, so was Melinda and her chosen Second, Commander Mar-Von, the Kree looking solemn yet vaguely uncomfortable as he stood in the corner of the conference room, without the protection of his usual battle armour.  He was still an imposing sight, to everyone except little Daisy, who was chattering to him as she was curled about Henry’s shoulders.  Mar-Von paid her the utmost attention, even though it would have been impossible for him to understand what she was telling him.

Owen, Diane, Suzie, and Toshiko had also elected to come along, and they were huddled together with Jemma, who’d been more than happy to tell them how effective her mood-altering ‘truth’ drug had worked, Fitz looking on proudly as his hands rested on Jemma’s shoulders.  Rhys, catching sight of Lisa, was at her side instantly, wrapping his arms about her tightly.  Samara was smiling happily beside her husband. 

The door opened suddenly, and in walked Phillip, Clint, and the others from Throneworld.  It got very quiet in the room, only Daisy, the moment seeing her dads, making any sort of noise as she demanded to go to her family, her shouts of, “Da!” and “Na’an!” and “Ni’i!” excitedly lessening a bit of the tension that had fallen over the family gathering.

Phillip was at Henry’s side at once, barely in time to catch Daisy as she attempted to fly at them.  He cuddled the little dragon fiercely, joined by the rest of the Coulson-Joneses, and they each took turns hugging Daisy.  She ate up the attention, grabbing onto a lock of Nicole’s hair and refusing to let go.

“The heroes of the hour,” Anwyn teased, her arms draped around Arthur and Merlin’s shoulders.  River had joined them, and was leaning against her son, her own arm about the wizard’s waist.  Rory, not to be outdone, reached out and somehow managed to get them all into one enormous hug, grinning happily at seeing his own parents safe and well.

“Mother,” Arthur scoffed.  “Please.”

That had everyone laughing, and Ianto joined them in it, glad that they were all back together once more, if only not under the best of circumstances.  Alyce was out there, as was Detective Shraeger, and her partner was present as well, not about to be left out.  The dragon welcomed him, bound together as they were now.

Still, it was odd seeing him and Clint in the same room.  He couldn’t wait until Phillip finally noticed, because that was going to be very entertaining indeed.

They’d barely gotten calmed down from that, when Jack, the Doctor, and Cadi finally arrived.  Ianto was up and out of his seat in an instant, pulling his mate against him, inhaling his familiar pheromones and just revelling in their closeness once more. 

“Goddess,” Jack murmured, breath hot against Ianto’s ear, “I have missed you, and it’s only been a short time.”

“Did you get what you set out to do accomplished?” the dragon asked, pulling back just enough to look into his mate’s eyes.

“We did.  And you’ll never guess who H and G were…”

Ianto quirked an eyebrow at him, questioning silently.

When Jack told him, the dragon couldn’t keep his mouth from falling open in shock.  “You have got to be joking…”

“Nope.  They’d been awakened and had joined up with HYDRA.”

“That doesn’t seem in character, from what I know about them.”

“I didn’t think so either, but apparently they were swayed by the rhetoric…and the money.  Plus, there was a need to get even with me for turning Torchwood against what they thought it should be, and wanting to make it _great_ again.”

Ianto snorted. “At least their definition of ‘great’.”

Finally, those two were also out of the way, although Ianto got the distinct impression there was so much more to the story than what Jack was telling him.  However, they didn’t have the time right now to hash it all out; they had another battle to plan.

Reluctantly, Ianto stepped away from his mate, moving to return to the head of the table.  The room grew totally silent as each and every one of them saw; even Daisy who, as usual, seemed to sense something going on and settled quietly into Phillip’s arms, her blue eyes content as she relaxed. 

“And what is that?” Jack pointed toward Ianto’s belt, horror in his words.

Yes, the dragon had guessed he’d be getting some flak for getting the Dragon Killer out of storage.  “It was _his_ , Jack.  And it’s time it was returned…just not in the way the Dragon Slayer might wish.”

The sword…it felt completely alien hanging from his waist.  The last time Ianto had even held the thing had been when they’d settled on Hubworld, when he’d stored it in the Secure section of the Archives, out of sight and out of mind.  It hadn’t lost any of its potency in the thousands of years it had been put away; in fact, its hunger for blood and death had only seemed to have grown, until Ianto could barely stand to touch it.  Still, it was needed, and the dragon planned on using it against the man who’d once wielded it against his family. 

Ianto firmly believed in destiny.  This was the very definition of it, in his opinion.

Jack didn’t look very happy and, really, Ianto couldn’t blame him.  His mate knew the sword, had used it on occasion, but only when absolutely necessary.  Even the immortal, who once had claimed not to believe in magic, had been struck by the blade’s evil power and bloodlust. 

He wanted to change the subject.  So, he went back to the large table, ready to get the meeting started.  He was certain they’d have words about it later, but for now that could wait.  They had things to do, and little time to accomplish them in.

He touched one of the control inset into the tabletop, and the vidscreen activated, revealing a pensive Gareth, Carys, and Jocelyn, in the front room of the family home.

“Ianto,” Phillip said, “Steve and Danielle would like to be kept in the loop about this operation.  They’ve even offered to lend us some help if needed.”

The dragon nodded.  “We may take them up on that.  For the time being, let me explain to you what we know and where we’re going.”

Another control was touched, and the holographic inlay of the table clicked on, and the blueprints of what Ianto knew was a bunker appeared over the inlaid wood-plastic laminate.   

Arthur stepped up, peering at the diagram intently. “What are we dealing with, Grandtad?”

Instead, it was Toshiko who spoke. “I thought this place would have been destroyed by now.”

That statement and the horror in her voice had everyone looking at the diminutive figure of the technical genius. 

“What is it, Aunt Tosh?” Cadi asked, worried.

“This was once a UNIT detention centre, back in the 20th and 21st centuries,” Ianto explained, so she wouldn’t have to. 

He could see Phillip trying to come up with what he could recall about UNIT, while Clint was shocked, Owen angry, and Suzie and Diane were nodding.

“But how does Aunt Tosh know it?” Arthur wanted to know.

“Because she was once a prisoner there,” Jack said softly.

That announcement caused an uproar, and had at least Cadi hugging their newfound aunt tightly, trying to comfort her. 

“What’s UNIT?” Walsh piped up. 

This had the effect of bringing attention to him, and for the first time Phillip and Clint both got a very good look at the detective. 

Their expressions were sublime.

Ianto hoped he’d be able to get likenesses of them from the security cameras.

“Unified Intelligence Taskforce,” the Doctor answered, not at all fazed by Walsh’s close resemblance to Clint, which was about par for the course for the Time Lord.  “They were the accepted face of alien hunting back then.”

“He worked for them for a while,” River teased.  “His first and only paying job.”

“You worked for the people who put Aunt Tosh in prison?” Alun asked incredulously.

“Well, to be fair,” the Time Lord said, “that was way after my time. And the Brigadier would never have done that sort of thing.”

“UNIT fell out of favour with the then-British government after a particularly nasty alien incursion,” Ianto once again took up the story.  “They were in collusion with the government in attempting to take Torchwood out of the picture and in caving with an alien race’s demands of ten percent of Earth’s children.”

“Queen Elizabeth the Second ordered them out of Great Britain,” Phillip added.  “I remember that.  Her Majesty wanted Torchwood to take over all of UNIT’s activities and put in place a plan to have the Institute grow large enough to handle a major invasion.  When SHIELD fell to HYDRA back then, we entered into an agreement with Torchwood, ending up moving to England and eventually subsuming UNIT’s military arm into SHIELD itself.”

“That cooperation is what started the expansion of the original Institute,” the dragon went on.  “And, you know how it all turned out.”

“But what happened to this place?” Anwyn asked.  “I mean, Aunt Tosh is right: this should have long been knocked in and built over.”

“From what we’ve been able to find out,” Melinda took up the briefing, “it was, indeed, buried and built over.  However, about twenty years ago, the bunker was re-discovered and bought by a real estate consortium looking for property in the area where the base had once been.  The thing is, nothing was ever done to tear it down and reclaim the land for a new building.”

“In fact,” Ianto said, “whoever owns it now cleared the detention centre out completely, and ostensibly set about restoring it…why, we didn’t know until now.”

“Whoever owns it turned it into a HYDRA base,” Merlin didn’t phrase it as a question.

Ianto nodded.  “Melinda has data miners going through the records, and so far they’ve managed to track a part of its current its ownership, but from Adam’s confession to us he’s the true owner, only through several shell companies.”

“This Adam has far too many fingers in far too many pies,” Phillip growled. 

“He’s been around long enough for it,” Henry agreed.

“He’s seen it all,” Jack said.  “He was around for everything: the Avengers, Ianto’s first appearance on the international scene as the Torchwood Dragon, SHIELD’s fall and HYDRA’s rebirth and eventual destruction, the rise of the Institute…he was a witness to it, so he knew exactly where to hit us, with some judicious research and a magical crystal that could find reincarnated souls.”

“Well, we have Adam.”  Ianto met Henry’s eyes, and his immortal son-by-mating nodded.  “I gave Henry the honour of deciding Adam’s punishment for what he’s done – “

“Why is that?” Jack turned to his mate, and Ianto could see the confusion in his eyes.

“Because Rowena is pregnant,” Henry answered.  “And Adam set the Dragon Slayer on her.  Yes, he didn’t know about it at the time, but Adam was responsible for the near-death of my mate and our unborn children…the Water Dragon said there was more than one.”  He looked proud and gobsmacked at the same time.

Jack nodded in agreement.  “Then yes, I can understand.”  Then he smiled, one of his thousand-watt smiles that warmed everyone in the room.  “And that’s awesome news.  Did someone make the comment yet about dragons not having litters?”

Clint raised his hand, smugly.   Jack laughed heartily at that.

“Henry has decided that, since we can’t risk killing Adam or him committing suicide and him resurrecting somewhere else,” Ianto brought the meeting back onto some semblance of track, even as he was rolling his eyes at their antics, “that we’re going to put Adam into cryogenic suspension.  Melinda has agreed that Torchwood would hold him for eternity.”

“That makes sense.  And, with the advancements in the science, we don’t have to wake him up every year to make certain he’s not brain damaged or something.”

“Exactly.”  Ianto was glad that his mate was going to go along with the idea.  “Jemma and Fitz have already prepared him, and all that’s left to do is transfer his cryogenic unit back to Hubworld.”

“And I’ll make certain he’s buried so deep in the Archives that it will take Gliese 581 going supernova to dig him out again,” Melinda swore.

“I second that,” Phillip added, “for when I go back onto duty.”

She gave him a knowing look.  “I thought you might.”

“Of course you did.”

Daisy made a noise that sounded very much like a raspberry, and the entire room broke down in laughter at the timing.

The laughter was fairly inappropriate, given that they were still missing two members of that family – and yes, Ianto was considering Detective Shraeger as part of that family, now.  But Ianto let it fade out naturally, understanding that much of it was letting out the fear and worry that each and every one of them was experiencing. 

Once things quieted down a little, he turned back to the holographic diagram.  “We don’t have personnel numbers; what Adam was given wasn’t a truth serum – “

“It’s more used to put a subject into a suggestable state,” Jemma broke in.  “And, since Adam really wanted to tell us anyway about having Alyce and our detective friend, he was more than willing to give us all the information about where they were being held.  However, since he also wants to kill us all, he wasn’t about to share what we should be expecting once we get to the bunker.”

“He did tell us that the Dragon Slayer was there,” Henry piped up, “as well as John Garrett.”

“And, from what Adam also said,” Walsh said, “Garrett is more of a partner than a flunky.”

Phillip frowned.  “That…goes against what I seem to remember of John Garrett.  He was never one to toe the HYDRA line, so to speak. He was more into it for himself.”

Melinda nodded.  “He was looking for a cure for something that was done to him after a pretty severe injury.  He’s crafty, though; he created an entirely new identity in order to track Phillip down back then and to discover how he was brought back to life.”

“It only drove him mad,” Fitz confirmed.  He looked a little pale under the faint green of his skin. 

“And Director Coulson, for a short time,” Jemma added.

Clint was nodding in agreement.  Phillip appeared a little ill at the remembrance.

Ianto remembered that, as well.  He hadn’t been with Phillip’s old SHIELD team at the time of HYDRA’s resurgence and Garrett’s betrayal, but he certainly could recall the carving and the irrationality that the GH325 had wrought in his son-by-mating.  It had eventually cleared up, but from what he’d seen Phillip had always been concerned that it might happen again, especially after he’d learned the combination of formula and magic had made him effectively immortal.  Those concerns had only resurfaced when they’d had to use a new variant of the GH325 to get his magic back under control.

Fortunately, there hadn’t been another recurrence of the side-effects from the first formula, but then Jemma and Fitz were the best at what they did.

Ianto couldn’t help but notice that Clint had moved closer to his mate, and that Daisy had climbed Phillip’s shoulder, taking her usual spot and cooing in her father’s ear.  She might not have understood what was being discussed, but she could certainly tell that something was upsetting her other dad.  Nathan, Nicole, and Lisa had also grouped around Phillip, as if wanting to shield him from whatever pain he might have been experiencing in that moment, with Garrett and his own history with the man.  After all, it had been Garrett who’d arranged to have Phillip kidnapped, back then, and tortured for the method of his resurrection. 

“Grandtad…Grandfather…if I may?” Arthur asked, motioning toward the diagram.

Ianto nodded, letting Arthur take a closer look.  He, Jack, and Phillip were the tacticians of the family, and the dragon had planned on stepping aside and letting them have at it.

“Are these the cells?” Arthur pointed toward one section on the three-dimensional rendering.

“Yes,” Toshiko answered for them.  “That’s where Alyce and Detective Shraeger will most likely be held.”

“Then, the first order of business is to get to them.  Rescuing the hostages will take them out of play, and HYDRA won’t be able to use them against us.”

“We don’t know anything about security, either,” Jack mused, standing next to his grandson.

“We need to get in there and shut that sort of thing down…”

Ianto let their discussion wash over him, confident that they would be able to plan the extraction.

However, the Dragon Slayer would be his.

He would give him back the very sword that had murdered the dragon’s parents, by sheathing it into the man’s chest.

The vow he’d sworn so very long ago – and the more recent one – would soon be fulfilled.

And then, perhaps they could work out just what to do about this planet that Danielle had promised them in front of the rest of the Empire.

 

 

 


	52. Chapter 52

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Outside of London Island_ **

****

The old UNIT facility didn’t look like much from the air.

Phillip touched his mate’s shoulder, and Clint circled in for a landing.  The bunker had been buried, and then re-excavated, but entire sections of it were still underground, hidden under rubble and poured permacrete and surrounded on all sides by more modern buildings, giving every single dragon member of the family a place to set down in the cleared space above. 

Just ahead of them, Phillip could make out Ianto, with Jack on his back; Anwyn, carrying Walsh; and Arthur, his own mate seated comfortably between the ridge plates that led down the neck from Arthur’s forehead crest.  The rest of the family was in flight around them; even Robyn, which meant it was serious indeed.

The Jones Clan was going to war once more, and hopefully it would be for the final time for a very long time.

Arms tightened around Phillip’s middle, and he could tell it wasn’t in nervousness; but then, Toshiko had ridden dragonback before, in her previous life.  It had been decided that she would fly with them, mainly because it was going to be the pair of them getting into the facility and breaking their security protocols.  There was a certain ambivalence in it for him, as this version of his friend was ten years old, but at the same time Toshiko Sato truly was the best at what she did.  Phillip hadn’t even argued with her when she’d volunteered, although Ianto and Jack had both expressed their concern for her safety.  Even though she was in a child’s body, Toshiko had faced them both down, proving without a doubt that she was still one of the scariest women Phillip had ever had the pleasure of being acquainted with.

It would be her, Phillip, Cadi, and Nicole in one team, while the Doctor, Robyn, and Walsh would hunt down the wayward hostages and get them out of whatever cell they’d been placed in; there had been no stopping Robyn from going after her sister.  Yet two more teams would help clear out the actual base; those made up of Shieldsmen, led by Steve, and Torchwood troops, whose leader was Phillip’s favourite Kree, Mar-Von.  Everyone else would create a distraction, hopefully to bring both Garrett and the Dragon Slayer out in the open.

Phillip still couldn’t believe that Ianto had dug that damned sword out of the Archives.

Even back when Phillip hadn’t really been aware of his magic, he been able to _sense_ just how evil that sword was, back when they’d used it against the mad LMD, Aida.  Both SHIELD and Torchwood had had their share of enemies who would’ve loved getting their hands on it.  Phillip knew there had been a point when Jack had suggested they destroy it, but Ianto had demurred.  It had been puzzling, but the immortal guessed that the dragon had had a reason for keeping such a horrific thing around, even though Ianto had vehemently denied it at the time, saying he just had a feeling that to get rid of it would be a mistake. 

Phillip seemed to recall that someone had told Ianto that there would be a destiny for that weapon, but he couldn’t remember who it was.  Someone who claimed to be a Sorcerer Supreme, maybe?  Oh, yes, it came to mind now…Stephen Strange.  He had been an invaluable ally back in the 21st century.

Destiny could be a serious bitch sometimes, although it seemed as if Dr Strange had been correct.

Clint settled gently to the ground, onto one of the areas that had been paved over.  Phillip slid down easily, then turned to catch Toshiko if she needed help.  She glared at him so he backed off and let her do it on her own, although he kept close just in case.

She ended up taking a misstep, and the ice mage caught her easily before she could hit the ground.  She mumbled her thanks, and tried to pretend she wasn’t embarrassed. Phillip looked away in order to spare her blushes.

Dragons were landing all over.  It really was an impressive sight.  Phillip had missed the flight to Avalon, so he was awestruck to say the least even though he’d been a witness to them all landing before.  He didn’t think he would ever get used to this sort of thing.

Anwyn dropped down next to Clint, Walsh hopping down easily so that she could change into her human form.  Clint was just a little behind her, and the golden magic of the transformations mingled together.  Phillip had been surprised when she’d volunteered to carry the detective, especially since Ianto had entrusted Walsh with the Dragon Killer.  He’d explained that the sword wasn’t like Excalibur, in that Ianto couldn’t extend the magic that allowed him to change, clothes and all, over the cursed thing.  Walsh hadn’t been all that happy at being asked, but Phillip could see that the man couldn’t come up with a good excuse to turn the ‘honour’ down. 

And so, the moment his feet hit the ground, Walsh was off and practically running toward Ianto, the faster the better in getting rid of that damned thing.  He wanted to ask Anwyn how she’d been able to deal with having it in such close proximity, but didn’t; the expression of sheer relief in her eyes as they tracked Walsh’s movements was enough for Phillip to tell what she was thinking.

Ianto had touched down not that far away, and from where he was standing Phillip watched as Jack dismounted, and Ianto changed into his own human form.  Walsh approached and practically shoved the sword at him.  Ianto accepted it with a nod, saying something, and then the detective was on his way back, joining Robyn as she made her own way to Phillip’s side.

Phillip didn’t think he’d ever get used to someone so closely resembling his mate although, when they were side-by-side, there were certain differences.  He’d never mistake one for the other, which was a good thing. 

The Doctor popped up, along with Cadi, who not only had her usual blaster, but several other, equally lethal, weapons on her person.  Her expression was fiercely determined, but there was something very much like peace in her eyes.  Phillip wanted to know more about what had occurred on Trafusis, but supposed he’d get the entire story later on.  There simply hadn’t been time to share experiences before they’d all agreed on a plan and had left Torchwood Central.

“We all know what we’re doing?” he confirmed with his companions.

Clint looked a little bothered by the whole thing.  “I don’t like the idea of you going in there without me.”

It hadn’t escaped the immortal’s attention that Clint had been decidedly clingy ever since the Library.  He hadn’t been on Throneworld during the Palace bombing, and that was making Clint even more overly protective than before.  Phillip could certainly understand it, but he could also take care of himself, especially with his magic since it had become much easier to use, and so very much stronger.  Phillip was much more accepting of it, now that it had almost killed him.  It didn’t make sense, but there it was.

“You need to stand with Jack and Ianto, and the others,” Phillip reminded his mate.  “They need you more than I will.”

Clint nodded, but he didn’t look at all happy.  “I don’t like you not having someone to watch your back.”

“Hey!” Cadi exclaimed, affronted.  “Have a little faith, baby brother!”

“Alright,” he backed off, holding his hands up. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

She gave him an understanding smile.  “I get it, Clint.  I do.  But I’ll watch out for both Phillip and Aunt Tosh.  Besides, Phillip can take care of himself, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Clint grudgingly accepted the truth in that sentence. 

“And I’ll be along as well, Dad,” Nicole piped up.  “Between Dad and me, we’ll take ‘em all down.”

Phillip got the distinct impression that Nicole had volunteered to go along as a way of acting as Clint’s surrogate, in order to make sure Phillip wasn’t overly damaged during their operation.  He would have told her to stay with the rest of the family, if it wasn’t for the fact that she might be useful.  Plus, she still wasn’t quite certain of her dragon form yet, and it would be better if she was on the ground.

Cadi, though…she would have also been useful outside, but she’d claimed that she’d gotten her vengeance out of her system and could be level-headed as part of the strike team going in.  It wasn’t as if HYDRA wouldn’t have seen them coming, but at the same time Cadi was nigh-on indestructible, like the rest of her blood relations, and she’d shown a propensity to look out for Toshiko.  Also, Phillip knew she would watch his back, as he would watch hers.

According to the plans they’d managed to acquire, Phillip knew there was an entrance that had been excavated not far from where Clint had landed.  “We go in together,” he said to the group gathered around him, “and then separate when we get to the corridor leading to the cells.  You all know what to do after that.”

He got nods from everyone.

“And Doctor,” he pinned the Time Lord with a glare that was half serious, half teasing, “no detours.”

The Time Lord rested both hands on his chest, over his hearts.  “Phillip, you wound me.”

“No…I know you, and River will have my hide if I let HYDRA get their hands on you.”  Phillip was honestly surprised that the Doctor’s wife wasn’t going with them, but she’d claimed to be content with staying behind with Merlin and the other humans in the clan. 

“She’s not that scary,” the Doctor waved off his statement.

“Yes, she is,” Cadi contradicted.

The Doctor sighed soppily, “Yeah, she is.”

“Director Coulson-Jones.”

It was going to take a bit to get used to being called that; the immortal had tried very hard to keep his family life away from Torchwood, and using Clint’s surname had been a part of that attempt.  However, Danielle had put paid to that in her little speech.  “Shieldsman Charlton.”

Charlton stood a little ways off, a determined expression on his face.  It was also going to take a bit of getting used to the fact that Barney Barton was now a good guy, and actually worked for Steve.  “The Grand Master requested that I accompany you, and to hold whatever security suite you might find for the reinforcements to arrive.”

Clint smiled, happy at that development.  He approached the reincarnation of his wastrel brother, clapping him on the shoulder.  “Watch out for them, alright?”

“You got it,” Charlton confirmed.

Something about the exchange must have surprised their family, because every single one of them standing in the area was staring at him in various forms of confusion and curiosity.  There hadn’t been time to even mention the fact that HYDRA had reawakened Barney’s memories in an attempt to get him to join, and that Barney had refused, fully expecting to be killed for that rejection.  That didn’t happen, which was still a bit of a puzzle, but with Danielle leading a purge on Throneworld of any and all threats HYDRA wouldn’t be able to strike against this version of Barney’s family.

Normally, he wouldn’t have trusted Barney Barton as far as he could throw him, but this version of Clint’s former brother was firmly on the side of the angels, and Phillip was usually willing to give second chances.

He gave the man a sincere smile.  “Don’t you think you should be calling me Phillip?”

Charlton grinned.  “Then it’s Brant.”

“Excellent.  We should be heading out, shouldn’t we?” 

Clint took a moment to hug him, pressing a chaste kiss to Phillip’s lips then burying his face in the immortal’s shoulder.  “Take care, you.”

Phillip held him.  “You, too.”  Then he whispered in his mate’s ear.  “Don’t let Ianto do anything stupid.”

Clint snorted.  “Easier said than done.”

They reluctantly pulled apart.  “Let’s get this done, and then we can go home.”

He received nods all round. 

Clint turned away, walking toward the rest of the family, several of them still in dragon form as they perched on the rubble strewn field and waited for the word to begin. 

Taking a deep breath, Phillip led the others toward the entrance that had been on the old plans, hoping it was still unblocked.

They had a job to do.

 

 

 


	53. Chapter 53

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Unknown Location_ **

****

Casey had no idea how long it took Alyce to wake up.

They’d taken her wrist chronometer – and she’d better get it back, since it had been a gift from Davis – when they’d captured them, although for the life of her she had no idea why they’d think it would have caused any sort of trouble.  It wasn’t like she had anything built into it.  It was just a chronometer, albeit a bit more expensive than she’d worn before Davis had given it to her for her last birthday.

Eventually, though, Alyce groaned her way awake.  Then she cursed the rest of the way to consciousness.  “Are we back in that bloody cell?” her voice was gravelly.

“Yep,” Casey answered.  She’d sat with her back to the wall, and had decided that Alyce didn’t need to wake up with her head against the cold material of the floor, so she’d volunteered her lap as a pillow. 

Alyce struggled to sit up, so the detective helped her.  The dragon ended up leaning against Casey’s shoulder, and she had to appreciate the warmth her companion was putting out.  “I almost had him,” she growled.

That was very true, and Casey agreed with her.  “I really need to learn some of those moves.”  She’d been really impressed.

“They didn’t much help in this situation.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t like you can punch out tranquiliser darts.”

“Point.”

“And you should be gratified to know that it took five of those HYDRA goons to get you back to the cell.”

“I’d be insulted by that comment if it weren’t for the fact that that makes me very happy.  They want to tranq me; they can carry my heavy arse back here.”

That had Casey cackling.  “You and I need to go out for drinks or something once we’re out of this.  And maybe I can talk my significant other into a threesome.”

Alyce snorted.  “Don’t say things like that, because I might just take you up on it.”

Casey’s heart did a little triphammer thump at the woman’s tacit agreement to an actual threesome.  She hadn’t failed to notice how attractive Alyce was.  “I’ll ask again once I’ve cleared it with Davis.”

The dragon put her head on Casey’s shoulder.  “Why don’t you do that?  Although don’t mention anything like that in front of my Tad…he still considers me a child.”

“But parents do that sort of thing.  It scandalised my mother when she found out I was sexually active at the ripe old age of twenty.”

“Well, I’m ninety-two…which is practically a baby in dragon years.  Although, my nephew, Abraham, is only seventy-three, and my sister and her mate are rueing the day they become grandparents…which, with Abraham, it’s just a matter of _when_.”

“Gets around then?”

“Oh, Goddess, yes.  I think he was sexually active in the egg, if that was possible.”

Casey choked on air.  She practically hacked up a lung before she could say, “Dragons come from eggs?”

“Not really.”  Alyce laughed.  “It’s a really long story.  Remind me to tell you when we get out of here.”

“It’s a date.”  Casey was looking forward to it. “Speaking of getting out of here…”

“You have any bright ideas?”

“Well, we could try the same thing we did the first time.  They’d never expect that.”

Alyce hummed.  “Or we could wait for rescue.”

“I hate that idea.  And don’t bother lying and saying you don’t.”

“I’m not saying a word.”

“Good. Because I’d hate to think you’d want to keep sitting on that heavy ass of yours and do nothing.”

Alyce snorted into her shoulder at that.  Casey didn’t even pretend not to find it cute.

“Although,” the detective mused, “we could use the time we have to make out.”

“You do know they’re probably monitoring us, right?”

“Sure they are.  And it will piss them off to no end when they realise we’re not falling for their intimidation tactics in order to do a little heavy petting.”

“You are completely unreal.”  Alyce lifted her head, in order to meet Casey’s gaze. 

And then, she leaned forward and kissed her.

Alyce’s mouth was very warm, and Casey loved it.  She opened her mouth under the dragon’s questing tongue, moaning at the wet heat that accompanied that very talented tongue.

Casey was going to call Alyce a liar about being a kid.  There was no way a kid could kiss like _that_. 

Before she even knew what she was doing, Casey had straddled Alyce’s lap, hands buried in the dragon’s dark hair.  Fingers cupped Casey’s ass, pulling her even closer as their kiss grew even more heated.  A small voice in the back of the detective’s mind was saying that Davis better agree with that threesome, because there was no way she wasn’t going to have her hands all over Alyce at some point and she’d prefer to have his permission _and_ his participation.  Not that she would ever cheat.  That wasn’t the way Casey was.

An even smaller voice was asking if that wasn’t what she was doing, so she told it to shut up and get with the programme, because there was a really hot woman under her with an even hotter tongue diving for her tonsils, and there’d be time later for her conscience to poke at her.

Davis had been _fucking_ agree.

Before it could get to the point where they were putting hands inside clothes, there was a creak as the door opened.

“Well,” a very familiar voice drawled, “should we come back later?”

Casey tore her mouth away from Alyce’s, turning to glare over her shoulder at her partner.  Walsh was lounging against the door jamb, smirking.  He wasn’t alone; another man was with him, one that Casey didn’t recognise, wearing a ridiculous purple coat and a matching bow tie, his eyes rolling as he took in their rather… dishevelled appearance.  Robyn was peeking around the door frame, a bright flush high on her cheeks as she also took in the scene in front of her.

“What the _hells_ , Walsh?” And _no_ , Casey’s voice didn’t sound at all wrecked. 

Oh, who was she fooling?  She was totally wrecked.

“Excuse us for thinking you needed to be rescued,” Walsh said, holding his hands out in front of him in a token surrender.

Alyce rested her forehead on Casey’s shoulder, laughing breathlessly.  “Later,” she whispered in Casey’s ear, her warm breath tickling against her neck.  “And talk to your significant other first.”

“Your Tad would be horrified, Alyce Harkness-Jones,” the man in the purple cried.  “And your Dad would be thrilled to bits.”

Alyce laughed even harder, raising her head to look back over Casey’s shoulder.  “Your timing stinks, Doctor.  And you’re supposed to be a Time Lord!”

Time Lord?  That would mean that the man with Walsh was the infamous Last of the Time Lords, the one who called himself the Doctor.  Casey had no idea what she’d done to get involved with dragons and magic and reincarnations and Time Lords, but she was beginning to like it.

Still, the man didn’t look a thing like a near-mythical being.  He looked more like an uncoordinated idiot.  But then, maybe that was how he’d managed to defeat all of his enemies, by appearing to not have a clue.  It would be a fantastic superpower to have, lulling the bad guys into a false sense of security and then kicking their asses.

“I’d say my timing was perfect in this case,” the Doctor scoffed.

Robyn didn’t say anything, but she looked supremely embarrassed, and there was also something in her eyes that Casey thought might have been jealousy.  She’d seen how close Robyn and Alyce were; maybe she was seeing Casey as some sort of interloper?  It was something else they’d have to discuss, if this was going to work between them.

Reluctantly, Casey climbed off of Alyce’s thighs, straightening her clothing as she climbed to her feet. Alyce followed suit. “How did you find us?”

“Come on,” Walsh urged, “and we’ll explain along the way.  Right now, we have an entire family outside who are pissed off, and your Dad, Alyce, is challenging the Dragon Slayer to a duel with some crazy-ass evil sword that I never want to touch again.”

“My Dad?” Alyce went completely still.  “Or my Tad?”

Walsh looked a little confused, but so was Casey.  They never did find out what language ‘Tad’ was in, but she knew it applied to Second Jones.

“Tad,” Robyn clarified, the flush leaving her skin as an appalled expression crossed her lovely face.

“And he has a _sword_ with him?”  Alyce was going paler by the moment.

The Doctor’s eyes were old and sad, even as Robyn was nodding.  “He brought the Dragon Killer with him, Alyce.”

She had her hands up to her mouth, as if she was trying to keep any sort of pained sound inside.  Casey put a hand on her shoulder, wondering just what she was missing from this conversation.

“The Dragon Killer is the evil-ass sword I mentioned,” Walsh explained.  “But we don’t have time right now.  We need to head out before the fireworks start.”

With that, he waved them forward.  Alyce took the invitation, moving so quickly Casey was almost certain she’d somehow teleported. She was out the door like a shot, the Doctor and Robyn on her heels, leaving Walsh to stare at Casey, eyebrows raised.  “Are you waiting for an engraved invitation, Shraeger?”

She gave him a rude gesture as she left the cell, making her partner laugh.

Just outside in the hallway, there were two bodies on the ground, obviously stunned.  That matched up with the obvious stunner in her partner’s hand; without even glancing in her direction, Walsh handed one to Casey, who suddenly felt much better prepared to deal with any bad guys along the way.

“You know that Alyce and I wanted to save ourselves,” she quipped as they followed the Doctor and Casey’s new, possible, lover and that potential lover’s sister down the hall, in the opposite direction from when they’d first escaped.

“We can lock you back up in that cell.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

Casey couldn’t help but notice the injury to his head, and knew he’d gotten it when she and Alyce had first been captured.  Well, if there was one thing she knew about her partner was that hitting Walsh in the head wouldn’t do that much damage, because his skull was just that thick.

She said so.  Walsh rolled his eyes at her.

The three of them were a bit ahead, so she and Walsh hurried to catch up.  Every once in a while, they would pass an unconscious minion, and Casey couldn’t help but take the opportunity to kick a couple of them, because being kidnapped _sucked_.

Someone stepped into the hallway, and she tensed as she noticed it was a person Casey didn’t know.  It was a woman, humanoid, and as she got closer she could make out the double pupils of her blue eyes, the irises limned with gold.  She bore a slight resemblance to Alyce, and Casey guessed this was some sort of relation…which was confirmed when she called out, “Aunt Alyce!” and then wrapped her in a hug. Robyn hovered a little, which was endearing in a way.

“Dad’s made it to the security suite,” the unknown woman reported as soon as they were all together.  “He, Aunt Cadi, and Aunt Tosh have all the defences shut down.  It’s just all clean-up now.”

“What is this place?” Casey demanded, her curiosity finally getting the best of her.

“It’s an old UNIT facility,” the Doctor told her. 

Casey didn’t know what UNIT was, and said so.

“They were a military organisation back in the 20th century.  However, they fell out of favour with the then-ruler of then-Great Britain in the early 21st century and were eventually kicked out of the country.”  The Doctor’s face went hard, and suddenly he didn’t seem all that much of an idiot after all.  “This place was buried and built over, but it was rediscovered about thirty years ago, from what we’ve been able to discover.  We’ve been able to trace back ownership through several shell companies to the villain of the piece.”

“Jeffrey Dorian,” Walsh supplied.  “Turns out he’s an insane immortal called Adam.”

“Sounds like we have a lot to catch up on,” Alyce commented.

“And we’ll be glad to catch you up,” another voice put in, “but at the moment we have other things that need doing.”

Casey turned in the direction of the voice.  Coming down a branching corridor was the Director of the Torchwood Institute, Phillip Coulson, another Harkness-Jones, judging from the family resemblance and who was armed to the teeth, and – to Casey’s immense surprise – a child who looked to be about ten years old with obvious alien blood.  She had white hair and impossibly bright blue eyes, and was holding a mass of equipment that she was fiddling with as she followed them both, appearing to be completely distracted by whatever it was she was doing.

“We have the place surrounded,” Coulson said, “but there hasn’t been any sign of Garrett or de Marigny.”

“The Dragon Slayer uses magic to get around,” Alyce growled.  “He’s here.  We saw him.  I tried to take him out, but Garrett has a gun that shoots out tranquilising darts that are sharp enough to penetrate dragon dermis.”

“We’ll watch out for that,” Coulson nodded.  “Melinda sent us some troops, and Danielle volunteered the Shieldsmen as well, so Steve and his people are checking out another section of the complex.  From what they’ve found, there was actually quite a large HYDRA cell here, and we’re rounding up people as we speak.”

It took Casey a few seconds to figure out that Danielle was the actually, honest-to-Goddess Empress of the Human Empire, and she indulged in a couple of moments of boggling over the fact that the man was obviously on first-name terms with Her Imperial Majesty. Although, since he was the newest Hero of the Empire perhaps that wasn’t quite so farfetched. 

“I’ve got all of the internal cameras and such working again the way I want them to,” the child added, “and Shieldsman Charlton is posted in the security suite.  He’s going to be our eyes in the facility.”  She looked up from what she was doing.  “I was hoping I’d never see the inside of this place again.  I thought it had been destroyed.”

The Director and the Doctor – and even Walsh – seemed to understand what she was saying.  Casey didn’t, and made a mental note to ask that question while she was asking others.  The girl – Aunt Tosh, apparently – didn’t look old enough to be walking about what could have become a warzone, and yet Coulson and the other woman were obviously there to protect her, which was a good thing or else Casey might have had to put charges up of child endangerment against them.  Still, the girl was their obvious technician onsite, which was about as big a surprise as Casey had had that day. 

She added yet another question to her mental list, about just why her partner had thought it was alright to let them put a little girl in harms’ way.  There must have been something very special indeed about her.

“What about Tad?” Alyce demanded. 

“He’s outside.  Waiting.  We should be going out to him.” 

With those words, Coulson gently took Alyce by the elbow, and led her down the corridor.  Casey found herself going along, mostly because she really wanted to see the end of this, and a bit because she wanted to go where Alyce was going. 

This had become personal to her, and that was even before she’d been kidnapped and used as bait.  And, with this thing between her and Alyce, it was now even something more.

In that moment, Casey Shraeger felt as if she was a part of the Jones Clan.  She liked that feeling a lot.

 

 


	54. Chapter 54

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_London Island_ **

****

As glad as Jack was that this whole shitshow seemed to be almost over, he couldn’t help but worry the longer Ianto had that damned sword in his possession.

The immortal had held the Dragon Killer before.  Hells, he’d _used_ it before. And, because he had, he was so very aware of just how _evil_ that thing truly was.  After the last time, he’d felt unbelievably relieved that Ianto had been happy to put it away for good.

But then, they’d had no idea that the reincarnation of its previous owner would be back, coming after their very family, taking one of their own away and almost causing them to lose two more.  And that didn’t count Henry, which they really should do because, while immortal, Henry had felt the very real pain of dying before resurrecting in the middle of the southern Pacific Ocean, out in the middle of nowhere.  Henry hadn’t deserved that, any more than Sabrina had deserved death, and Rowena and Skylar the pain they were currently suffering from their run-in with the so-called knight who had stalked them.

Currently, Ianto had the Dragon Killer’s worn sheath looped over an equally worn leather belt.  It didn’t go along at all with his mate’s suit, let alone Jack’s own, personal, scruples.  He could tell that he wasn’t the only one to feel that way; Detective Walsh, whom Ianto seemed to be willing to trust with carrying the blade, had handed it back as soon as he possibly could get rid of it.  Every single member of the family had taken to standing a little bit away from their own patriarch, but it was because of the sword and not for any other reason.

Ianto seemed to understand that.  At least, he didn’t seem all that bothered by the wide berth they all seemed to be giving him.  It was taking all of Jack’s formidable will power to keep him as close as he, himself, was standing, and that wasn’t within reaching distance.

That wasn’t the only thing wrong about his mate.  Ianto seemed…implacable, as if nothing would be allowed to stand in his way of using that damned sword on the Dragon Slayer.  Yes, Ianto could be that way naturally, but this was…well, it was unnatural.  It was as if his Vow of Vengeance had, somehow, gained physical form, and had taken his mate’s place.  It was disturbing, to say the least. 

The sooner that sword got back to the Torchwood Archives and buried forever, the better Jack would feel.  In fact, the immortal was hoping he could convince the Doctor to take him to the same star they’d flung the Darkhold into and let Jack toss the Dragon Killer in after it.

Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.  All of that concentrated evil might very well destroy the star.  Jack had better choose a different one, just in case.

Even now, as they stood outside the abandoned UNIT base, where he and Ianto had once met a traumatised Toshiko Sato and had saved her from lifetime imprisonment, there was a about a ten foot radius around Ianto where no one was standing.  The dragon looked very much alone, although every member of their family who could be there – minus their first strike team who’d gone inside to rescue Alyce and Detective Shraeger and to take down as many HYDRA agents as possible – was surrounding them.  Jack couldn’t help but watch his mate as Ianto stood there, as still as a statue, one hand resting on the hilt of the Dragon Killer and his eyes on the wreckage of the building that they’d come to invade.  There was something _hard_ about him, and not in a good way, and Jack shivered unconsciously.

Yes, that sword needed to _go_.  And soon.

Deliberately, Jack took four steps toward his mate, needing to be close outweighing his uneasiness where that damned blade was concerned.  He rested a hand on Ianto’s shoulder, concerned by the unnatural stiffness of the muscle.  “It’ll be anytime now,” he murmured, almost afraid to break the hush that surrounded them.

Torchwood, under Melinda’s direction, had cleared the area, knowing that anything could possibly happen once they began their attack on the building…unless Phillip and the people he was leading – which included Steve’s hand-picked First Shieldsman, Brant Charlton.  There was something about that man that had Clint relaxed and Phillip slightly tense, and it had taken Nathan to clue him in on just who the Shieldsman truly was.  Jack didn’t remember much about the stories Clint had told about his brother, but he seemed to recall they hadn’t been good ones.

Still, Steve trusted him, as did Clint, Nathan and Phillip…in his own fashion, and so no one had kicked up a fuss when Steve had requested that Charlton go with them when they breached the bunker’s defences, to hold the security centre until Steve could get techs in there to look over everything.  There were Shieldsmen and Torchwood Security forces onsite, and ImpSec was just waiting in the wings.

Waiting for Ianto to call out the Dragon Slayer.

There was a crackle in Jack’s comm.  _“We’re on the way out,”_ Phillip’s cool voice said.  _“We have both Alyce and Detective Shraeger.  They’re just fine.”_

Nearly every bit of tension that had been in Jack’s body was released with those three words.  Alyce was fine, as was Casey Shraeger.  They could let Steve take over and root out the rest of the HYDRA cell that had taken over the former UNIT base.

It was time for the Jones Clan to finish up their business with HYDRA.

Ianto turned, his eyes meeting Jack’s.  There was something cold and terrible in them, but at the same time the immortal could make out the sheer relief that this was almost over, and they could go home with their vow fulfilled.

Ianto’s eyes changed into their dragon aspect, and he gave Jack a single, emphatic nod, as if he was reading his mate’s very thoughts and agreeing with them. 

Straightening his spine, Ianto took several, long steps toward the wrecked bunker.  Without anyone giving any sort of signal, the entire family present there moved forward as well, leaving their patriarch out in front, to call out to the one they’d all sworn to destroy.

Everything that they’d done, had led them to this. 

A soft, ephemeral breath brushed against the back of Jack’s neck, and knew it wasn’t physical.  It was magic, curling around them all, as they all stood in witness as Ianto shouted toward the bunker.

“Guy de Marigny!” Ianto Jones, the Torchwood Dragon, once known as the Last, Patriarch of the Star Dragons, roared out his challenge in his human voice, and yet there was a rumbling undercurrent to the words that was very, very draconic.  “I command you to show yourself to me!”

The ritual words rang across the rubble-scattered ruins.  It had amazed Jack that the place hadn’t been rebuilt, that it hadn’t been covered once more, but Adam had wanted this to remain, a visible sign of the past. 

A soft breeze rushed through the broken concrete, whispering words of magic against Jack’s exposed skin.  He didn’t need to look to see that, at the very least, Merlin and Rory were reacting to the power being raised in that place, all in the name of vengeance.

This hadn’t happened at Avalon, but then this was the man who’d killed Sabrina, and who had hurt Rowena and Skylar.  While Morgause had damaged Lisa, there was something different in these circumstances; it was the culmination of everything they’d gone through, the circle drawing together like a closed electrical circuit.

Ianto called out for the Dragon Slayer once more.  It was perfectly silent, except for that magic-driven wind, whipping the tails of Jack’s coat about his legs and ruffling his hair almost playfully. 

As he watched, the sun went behind a cloud, and the wind got even colder than it had been before.  Jack didn’t want to shiver, but he couldn’t help himself.

It wasn’t just from the cold.

Ianto ordered the Dragon Slayer to appear a third time.  He stood perfectly still, Jack at his shoulder in the place where Ianto usually stood when dealing with official matters, and it felt right for him to be supporting his mate through this, just as Ianto had often supported him throughout their centuries with Torchwood. 

Had they been wrong about the Dragon Slayer being there?  Adam had claimed he was, but the formula he’d been given wasn’t a truth serum, really.  It only worked on those who wanted to reveal whatever secrets they had, and it had been obvious that the rogue immortal had, all along, meant to lead Ianto into a trap…

Which meant that the Dragon Slayer, the knight once called Sir Guy de Marigny, had to be there, if he’d been tasked with taking the Torchwood Dragon out of the picture.

A single, tapping foot was the only thing that gave away Ianto’s impatience.  Jack took the couple of steps forward, close enough to rest his hand on his mate’s shoulder, hoping to ground him and to keep him calm.  It seemed to work, and the tapping stopped.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack could see Anwyn standing a little behind them, Gwaine at her side, his own sword drawn and ready for anything that might happen.  Although he didn’t turn, the immortal knew that Clint was off to his side, with Nathan beside his Dad, holding Daisy, the littlest dragon child as silent as everyone else.  It was jarring; she was such a laughing, happy child, but she’d shown she was good at picking up on the emotions around them. 

The rest of the family was spread out behind them, supporting their patriarchs.  The children, and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren; Samara and Rhys; everyone had a stake in what was about to happen. 

There were ones missing: the members of the strike team that had gone within the bunker, and those they’d left behind in Ddraig Llyn.  They would be awaiting news of what transpired, and Jack wanted this to be over, so they could all go home, with the news that their war was over, and that their vows had been fulfilled.

They’d been joined by others: Owen, and Suzie, and Diane; Melinda, and Jemma and Fitz; Sir Leon and Commander Mar-Von.  They were also family, in their own way, and deserved to be there at the end, as some has been from the beginning.

Ianto shifted under Jack’s hand, and the immortal just knew he was going to call out again.

But there was no need.

A figure strode from the side of the bunker, where the entrance was located.  He was a non-descript man, but he was wearing armour that looked like something out of a medieval drama, with sword that was still resting in its sheath.  He walked up to within a couple of feet from Jack and Ianto, eyes trailing up and then down Ianto’s human form, pausing when he caught sight of the slitted pupiled eyes staring at him coldly.  Then, as if he’d somehow received some sort of confirmation, the man smiled widely.

“We meet again, dragon,” the Dragon Slayer smirked. “And, as the rest of your craven kind, you hide behind a human disguise.”

“We meet again, Sir Knight,” the Torchwood Dragon sneered.  “And, as the rest of your craven kind, you only feel strong when you’re attacking innocents.”

The smirk vanished.  “You’re no innocent, creature.”

“Perhaps not,” Ianto allowed, “but my children are.  They did nothing to you, Dragon Slayer, and yet you struck against them instead of coming after me directly.”  He moved forward a little, his shoulder dragging out from under Jack’s hand. 

“They were damned from the moment that were born, by the nature of their blood.  They deserve death, just as you do.”

Jack knew the Dragon Slayer was attempting to rattle his mate, and while the immortal couldn’t actually see Ianto’s face, he could tell by the set of his shoulders that it actually wasn’t working.  That Sir Guy de Marigny was trying his best to bother Ianto, but that he was perfectly calm.

“Sir Guy de Marigny,” Ianto said, his voice dark with threat and pleasure, “you are guilty of the murder of my daughter; the attempted murders of another daughter, her mate, and my grandson; and the kidnapping of another of my children and a friend of my clan.  As such, you are subject to our vengeance.  Nothing you say or do will mitigate this sentence and, as Patriarch of my clan, it is my right to carry out the Rite of Vengeance against you.  Do you submit?”

As Ianto finished, the wind intensified around them, whipping up Jack’s greatcoat and ruffling his hair.  There it was once more: a tension in the air, as if the very planet was waiting to see what was going to happen next. 

It was in that moment when Jack realised that this went beyond Sabrina and Rowena and Henry and Skylar and Alyce and Casey Shraeger.

This was about all the other dragons that this man and his ilk murdered over the years they crusaded against dragonkind.  That, with this man regaining his memories, it had reawakened something within the Earth itself, and not only were they there to mete out vengeance for their own family, they were there for vengeance against generations of dragons whose lives were cut short, their children hidden away until River Song had decided to go on a quest to find the ones she could and bring them home.

Jack was surprised that the Great Dragons weren’t hanging around somewhere.

Maybe they were…a person never knew with those four.

“I do not recognise your vengeance,” the man denied. 

“Then, I challenge you.” 

With a single, smooth movement, Ianto drew the Dragon Killer from its sheath.

“Perhaps you recognise this?” the dragon taunted, sounding almost bored.  “I took this from your cold, dead hand…after I burnt you like you burnt my family.”

Sir Guy’s face went red with rage.  Ianto had succeeded in what the knight hadn’t: royally pissing him off. 

“That is mine!  You will return what you stole, demon!”

“You’re going to need to take it.”

A soft, pervasive hum started up from all of the spectators, the single note quiet and yet so very powerful.  Jack could feel the pulse of magic against his exposed skin, the energy being brought into being mingling with the magic in the air, whipping up motes of dirt from the partially destroyed bunker. 

Jack found himself joining in.  He couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried.  The vibration in his larynx travelled from his throat into every cell in his body, tingling swamping his extremities.  The magic they were calling forth was also affecting the Vortex energy that made him immortal, bringing into the mix that very power, creating something new.

The Dragon Slayer stared at the gathered dragons and their mates, their friends and allies, and shouted, “Stop it!”

Ianto didn’t speak a word, nor did the humming cease.  Instead, the dragon took a single step toward the former knight, which seemed to whip the man into a frenzy.

He swung his own sword up.

Ianto parried with the Dragon Killer.

The screeching of metal against metal echoed over the ruins as a battle that had been long in coming was joined.

 

 


	55. Chapter 55

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_London Island_ **

 

Alright, the last thing the Doctor had expected was to find Alyce and Detective Shraeger making out in their cell, but it really shouldn’t have surprised him all that much.

After all, humans – and human-shaped dragons – were slaves to their endocrine systems.  The stress of being held would have gotten to both of them.  The Doctor felt it was a weakness in some races, but hey…if it worked to keep people from dwelling on possible death, as long as it didn’t get in the way of a really good rescue who was he to argue?

Besides, in a way he had the same problem, only his showed up in a different way.  As in the need to run a lot.

He was a little worried about Robyn’s reaction, however.  If the Doctor wasn’t mistaken, she’d been just a bit jealous of what they’d found in that cell.  Oh, it wasn’t because she was in love with Alyce, which would be a bit wrong on a lot of levels, them having been raised as sisters and all.  No, the Time Lord got the distinct impression that Robyn was finally realising that there would come a time when she would have to share her beloved sister with someone else, and she didn’t care for that one little bit. 

Well, she’d have to get used to the idea eventually.  Hopefully this wouldn’t do any damage to the close relationship the pair of them had.  Robyn had enough issues, she didn’t need to feel abandoned by the one person she was closest to.

They’d need to worry about that later, though, when they weren’t deep within enemy territory.

They met up with the others who’d infiltrated the facility.  The Doctor was a little put out that he hadn’t been asked to accompany Phillip to the security suite, but Toshiko had volunteered, and he hadn’t had the heart to argue against it despite the fact that the genius was now physically ten standard years old.  This place had once been a prison for her, and Toshiko had the right to help take it down, even though it was now HYDRA in charge and not UNIT.  What UNIT had done to the original Toshiko Sato still angered him, and he mourned for the days when the only thing he’d had to be concerned about with UNIT was an overabundance of explosions when they were in the area.

“The entrance is that way,” Phillip pointed down the hallway.  The old facility practically reeked with age, although at one point in the near past the carpet must have been replaced and the walls repainted.  That hadn’t stopped the incessant mould and damp, and it was gradually taking over once more. 

The Doctor got the distinct impression that this place wouldn’t be existing much longer.  Which was a good thing.

The immortal took the lead, and the Doctor fell into step beside him.  There was a pervasive chill radiating from Phillip, colder than usual, his magic at the ready for any contingency.  Someone had passed Detective Shraeger a stun gun – either her partner or Cadi, it was even money on whichever one it was – so everyone was as prepared as possible for any trouble they might run into.

Still, when the man stepped into the hallway from a door on the left, it brought everyone to a stop in surprise.

The man was human, about Phillip’s height but stockier, dark hair and eyes and a grin that was just on the wrong side of playful.  He didn’t look armed, but that didn’t really mean much.  He could have magic, or just be very good at fighting. 

“Phil!” the man exclaimed jovially, holding his arms out as if he was expecting a hug.  “It’s been way too long!”

“John,” Phillip greeted the man, his tone as cold as his magic.

Ah, so this was the mysterious John Garrett.  Honestly, the Doctor had expected someone a bit more…imposing.

Garrett dropped his arms, pouting.  “Now, is that any way to greet an old friend?”

“Old enemy, more like.”

“Now come on!  Don’t be that way!  This should be a happy reunion!” 

“John, you are guilty of crimes against my family.  I’ve made a Vow of Vengeance to make you pay for that.  Will you submit?”

The Doctor could sense the others behind them shifting, waiting for some sort of signal on what they were going to do next.  They were all happy to let Phillip take the lead on this, knowing that he had more reason to want vengeance than anyone else who’d come with them, with their past.  Phillip had been the one to kill Garrett back during that mess with HYDRA, back when SHIELD was trying to stay afloat and Phillip had been suffering the worst of the consequences of the GH325 formula.

Garrett sighed, shaking his head.  “How could we have believed we be back in the same situation again after so long?”

“It’s not the same at all.  This time, I’m the one with the power.”  Icy fire began to dance around Phillip’s raised hands, and the ambient temperature in the hallway dropped several degrees.  “You’re not getting out of this, John.  Surrender, and you might just spend the rest of your life in Stormcage…which, as I understand, isn’t all that bad.  You’ll have plenty of company…Uther Pendragon, Lucy Cole, Morgause Gorlois, and Agravaine du Bois will be more than happy to see you.”

“Do you know,” Garrett mused, putting his hands in the pockets of his trousers, “way back when, we had no idea what that damned formula would do to either of us.  It gave me a vision of the universe that no one had ever seen, and you…” he waved a hand toward Phillip, “it made you immortal.  And a wizard to boot.  We could have ruled the world, Phil, if you hadn’t let duty get in the way.”

“The formula didn’t do either of those things to me, not on its own.  And I don’t want to rule anything, there’s too much paperwork.  I’ll leave it to the people who actually know how to do it.  Now, as much fun as this has been, we’re going to take you into custody now.  Are you going to go quietly, or do we have to get rough?”

For a second, the Doctor actually thought that Garrett might capitulate.  After all, there really wasn’t anywhere he could go.  He had both magic and weaponry aimed at him, and wouldn’t have gotten very far against that sort of thing.

But then, the man’s pocket caught on fire.

Garret yelped, pulling his hand out and slapping at his suddenly burning trousers.  Phillip acted quickly by icing the man to the wall, putting the fire out with just a touch of the magical ice.

“What the hells was that?” Walsh demanded.

“That was me,” Toshiko spoke up. 

Those words had every eye on her, and she stood up to the scrutiny.  “He and his cronies have been awfully fond of personal transporters, so it stood to reason he’d have one on him – “

“Of course,” the Doctor cut into her explanation, beaming at her.  “That was absolutely brilliant!”

“What did you do?” Alyce enquired.

“I jammed the signal with this.”  Toshiko held up the jumble of equipment she’d been carrying around.  “Only it looks as if I miss-modulated the signal a bit, and the device blew up.”  Her expression was downright smug, and the Doctor just knew there hadn’t been any sort of mistake on her part at all.

“That’s too bad,” Cadi snorted. 

“I know!”

The Doctor gave her a brilliant grin.  He really wished he’d officially met Toshiko back in her Torchwood days, but that would have been impossible given his Tenth self’s tendency to hold grudges.

“You could have killed me!” Garrett bleated.

Toshiko shrugged.  “I’m not the one who tried to activate a transport disc in their pocket, am I?”

“She has a point,” Cadi piped up.

Phillip stepped right up to Garrett, who was struggling to get out of the ice that now glued him to the wall from shoulder to knee.  “John, you’re mine.  You hurt my family.  Whatever happens to you now will be at my discretion.” 

“So, go ahead and kill me,” Garrett spat.  “But know this: I’ll move on.  You’re stuck here, in this universe, until the stars go out, and eventually you’ll lose everything you love.”

Before Phillip could react to that, Nicole was up in Garrett’s space, glaring at him, her own magic reacting like a golden aurora borealis around her hands and glittering from her eyes.  “He’ll never be alone,” she growled.  “There will _always_ be someone here for my Dad.  It might not be me, or my brothers, or my sister, or even my other Dad, Goddess forbid.  But we take care of our own, and that means we will make _certain_ that Dad will never be alone.  Unlike you, who will live the rest of your life in a cell, alone except for people who will hate and despise you, instead of loving you like we do Dad.”

“Who did you give up?” the Doctor interjected, wanting to break up the oncoming chaos that was brewing just under Nicole’s skin.  She was about to do something he was certain she would regret, and he wasn’t about to let her do that. 

It did occur to him that he was doing Phillip’s job, but he seemed surprised at her outburst.  The love that shown out of every bit of him made him glow as strongly as Nicole’s magic did, only in crystalline stars like the most precious of diamonds.

His question had Garrett, who had been staring at Nicole in shock, snapping his head toward the Doctor.  “What?” he asked dumbly.

“Who did you give up?” the Time Lord reiterated.  “When HYDRA woke up your previous memories.  When you were Garrett Paxton, Captain-Owner of the _Typhon._  Who did you leave behind in order to get your revenge?”

Garrett simply stared at the Doctor, as if unable to find an answer. 

“Your family?” the Doctor pressed gently.  “Did you have a wife? A husband?  Children?  And what about your parents?  Who is missing you, Garrett Paxton?  Who will mourn you when they discover what you’ve been up to?  Was it worth losing your loved ones, to go after innocents who’ve done nothing to you and yours?”

Garrett’s eyes narrowed, and he snarled, “Fuck you,” in a tone that would have had anyone else shaking in their boots.

Not the Doctor, however. People have said worse to him.  “My wife wouldn’t like that very much,” he commented lightly, “unless we invited her, too.”

“I don’t think he’s River’s type,” Phillip said, not even bothering to hide the laughter in his words.

“Nor mine, really,” the Doctor conceded. 

“It can’t be because he’s a criminal,” Cadi teased.  “After all, you did marry River.”

“Yes, but she’s merely a sociopath.  I’m just not that into full-blown megalomaniacs.”  He didn’t mention the Master.  That was something completely different.

“We’ll just leave you here for a little while,” Phillip glanced back at Garrett.  “Grand Master Rogers or Commander Mar-Von of Torchwood will be along presently to take you into custody.”

“You can’t mean to leave me in this!” Garrett raged, wriggling within his icy cocoon. “I’ll freeze to death!”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” the immortal scoffed.  “You might lose a couple of fingers to frostbite, but they can easily be regenerated.  We have too much to do, to hang around here and wait for someone to show up.  You’ll be perfectly fine here, on your own.”

With those parting words, he turned back to the people who’d witnessed the confrontation.  “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”

Nicole looped his arm about her father’s.  “Let’s.”

There were nods all the way around.

The Doctor only hoped they weren’t too late to witness the outcome.

 

 


	56. Chapter 56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is...that chapter you've been waiting for.

 

**_4 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_London Island_ **

 

Ianto might have been calm on the outside, but inside…

He couldn’t make up his mind _how_ he was feeling.

He was angry, yes.  Not only had this man slain his birth family, he’d been brought back and had murdered his daughter, Sabrina, as well gravely injuring Rowena and Skylar, killing Henry in the process.  If left unchecked, chances were he’d attempt it again at some point.

The dragon was also afraid.  This was a person out of his worst nightmares of blood, and ash, and death; and of mourning and loss and so many other things he couldn’t even name.

There was also a part of him that just wanted this to be over.

Until the moment he’d called Sir Guy de Marigny out, Ianto hadn’t realised that this reach for vengeance was different from any other.  It was as if his previous vow, the one he’d thought discharged when he’d killed all of the knights who’d been responsible for his parents and sister’s death, had come back to haunt him in some way.  It was demanding to be fulfilled yet again, and the pressure of it made his heart sluggish and his blood turn to fire in his veins.

But he was calm on the outside.

He didn’t dare lose composure.  To do that would mean his death.

And the last thing Ianto Jones wanted to do was die.  He had far too much to live for.

It didn’t help that the Dragon Killer sword frightened him more than actually facing the man who’d once used it to slaughter his family.

Maybe it had been a mistake, he considered as he faced off against the demon from his nightmares, who dared to call himself and his children that same word, not willing to understand that they were living, breathing, _loving_ people, much like human beings were.  The dragon just didn’t understand himself the hate for dragonkind that certain religions had, equating them with evil.

The future was so much better.

Sir Guy had been born into a future that he couldn’t possibly exist in, not with his current set of values.  Perhaps Ianto was doing him a favour by putting him out of his misery, so he could be reborn back into ignorance of his former life.

He circled his foe, the Dragon Killer held lightly.  He could feel it, the evil that oozed from the metal like corrosion.  All of the death that had tainted that weapon, wrought by the man bent on ending Ianto’s life, and a couple others that either he or Jack had added to it. 

Ianto had even killed one of his own kind with it.  It wasn’t a good memory for him at all.

The humming…it was as if an electrical circuit was being completed.  Ianto could feel the magic in his bones, stoking his inner flame even though he was in his human form. 

Ianto took a step forward, suddenly needing to end the fight before it began.

The former knight took his movement as a threat, and swung his own sword.  Ianto parried with the Dragon Killer, the cursed blade humming its own tune in anticipation of the kill, in contrast to the song that buoyed up Ianto as the Dragon Slayer struck again, Ianto blocking that thrust as well, the ringing metal shrill in his sensitive ears.

Taking a step back, Ianto said, “You don’t belong in this time.  Your views are outdated, and no longer apply.  Give up, and we’ll see that you get the proper education while you serve the rest of your life in prison.”

“Never!” the knight vowed.  “I will not rest until you are dead, creature.  I have been promised that the world will return to its more traditional values once you and your ilk are gone.”

Sir Guy came in for an attack once more, a flurry of blows that had Ianto on the defensive.  He knew that the new blade the man used wasn’t magic, but it could still do damage to him if he wasn’t fast enough.  Sir Guy knew exactly where to strike to kill him, but the dragon wasn’t about to let him get away with that.

It was Ianto’s turn to go on the offensive.

He could admit to himself that he wasn’t that good with a sword.  It wasn’t something that Ianto had ever really set out to learn.  But his slightly greater than human strength and toughness would serve him well, and he had one more trick to try.

He used the Word of Power.

Around the duelling pair, the world warped, flashing through the environmental changes that had it had passed through over the eons since the Earth had been formed.  Sir Guy cried out in surprise and fear as his footing became uncertain on the shifting ground; where there had once been flatness, stones grew up, a mound of Earth poking itself up out of what had once been the primordial world. 

The dragon, though, wasn’t fooled by the illusion.  He went straight for the floundering murderer, crowded in close with the Dragon Killer and managed to disarm the man easily.

However, Sir Guy had his own tricks up his sleeve.

He vanished into thin air.

Stunned, Ianto took a step back as the Word of Power faded and normality returned.  He cursed himself for not taking magic into consideration.  He’d simply assumed that every time the bastard had teleported, it had been using some sort of technological aid.

But someone else had. 

Ianto heard words spoken, words of magic, in Merlin’s distinctive voice.  Then, a shout, “Left!”

Acting on instinct and in trust in his grandson-by-mating, Ianto thrust the Dragon Killer straight out to his left.

It struck something with a loud clang.

There was an audible grunt, and then the Dragon Slayer reappeared, dropping some sort of talisman on the ground.  The cursed sword had dented the armour of the breastplate, and Sir Guy staggered to one knee, dropping the sword that had been about to take off Ianto’s head.

Merlin had just saved Ianto’s life. 

Striding forward, Ianto kicked the sword out of his enemy’s lax grip, knocking it out of reach.  He then kicked out once again, this time hitting the breastplate right where the Dragon Killer had; if Ianto’s aim had been better, he was positive the weapon would have penetrated, and the Vow of Vengeance, both past and future, would have been fulfilled.

Sir Guy fell flat on his back, glaring up at the dragon as he attempted to regain the breath he’d lost.  Ianto put the tip of his sword against the man’s neck, forcing the head back a little.  “Do you yield?” he growled, a part of him hoping that the Dragon Slayer would, so he wouldn’t have to kill him, just as the man had killed so many others.

Sir Guy de Marigny said nothing.

“Unlike you, I have no desire to take a life.  So, I ask again: do you yield?”

The Dragon Slayer spat blood right at Ianto, and then smiled grimly.  “Knights of the Crusade do not yield for anything.”

The humming was growing to a climax.  The Dragon Killer sword was reacting to it, the blade practically vibrating in the sheer lust of the idea of murder.

And then, the fallen knight kicked out, his reinforced boot catching Ianto right in the knee.

Dragon bones and skin are strong, but they could still be hurt.  The force of the blow had Ianto staggering backward, arm holding the evil blade flailing away as he stumbled.  He didn’t lose his footing, but it was a close thing.

Before he could even react, Sir Guy de Marigny had run himself onto the Dragon Killer.

The humming from the family stopped as the Dragon Killer sang its pleasure at taking yet another life, even though it was the life of the man who had once used it to commit the very acts of violence that had tainted the metal.

Ianto let loose of the hilt, and the now-dead body of the self-named Dragon Slayer fell to the Earth, taking that damned sword with him, as it penetrated the gap the breastplate and the leather-like armour at his waist.  Eyes stared upward directly at Ianto, as if the corpse could actually see him as he dropped, a pleased, rictus grin twisting lips that were stained with blood.

The Earth, as if starving, soaked up the crimson tide that flowed from the mortal wound.

Ianto backpedalled away, until he was far enough away to turn and vomit against the broken stones of that final battlefield.

Large hands began to rub his back as he managed to rid himself of his last meal, until nothing was left.  He felt…violated, in a way.  Between the negativity of the Dragon Killer and the suicide of the bastard who’d murdered so many, Ianto wasn’t certain how to handle it all.  He stayed leaned over, letting Jack comfort him as he eventually brought his stomach under control.

He straightened up slowly, his back and neck and abdomen aching in the aftermath.  His hands were shaking, and he didn’t even try to get that under control.  This certainly wasn’t the first time he’d ever taken a life, nor would it be the last, but there was something about this time…the dragon suspected that, if he hadn’t used the one weapon he should never have touched again, it would have been… alright, maybe not better, but certainly he wouldn’t have been throwing up all over the place afterward.

A part of him was also feeling somewhat cheated that Sir Guy had ended up committing suicide by dragon.  Yet another reason behind his feelings of being used.  He just knew, in his heart, that the Dragon Slayer had wanted this to happen, to unsettle Ianto in this way, and the sword hadn’t helped in that at all. 

Taking a deep breath, the dragon finally turned to regard his mate.  Jack had a sympathetic smile, and he used his thumb to wipe away tears that Ianto hadn’t even been aware were trailing down his cheeks.  “It’s over,” he murmured.  “We can go home now.”

Over Jack’s shoulder, Ianto watched as his family surrounded them, supporting him and protecting him.  The Doctor, Phillip, Cadi, Alyce, Robyn, Nicole, and Toshiko had joined them at some point, along with the pair of Lunar detectives; the Time Lord nodded slightly in acknowledgement of what Ianto had done, as if he was condoning what had just happened.  Maybe he did, in that the dragon had tried to convince Sir Guy to give up first, and that he hadn’t actually been the one to make the decision to kill. 

Ianto had had no idea of how important the Doctor’s good opinion was to him until that moment. 

Well, this version’s, at least.  If his Tenth self suddenly showed up, Ianto would most likely punch him in the face.

“Merlin,” he called out.  When his grandson-by-mating met his eyes, the dragon said, “Thank you for that.”

“Anytime, Grandtad,” the wizard said, tiredness and relief in equal measure colouring the words.

Each and every one of them meant the world to Ianto Jones.  He couldn’t feel guilty about protecting them.

He would _never_ feel guilty about that.

“Let’s all go home,” he said, and he received smiles from everyone.

 

 


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where this story earned it's second nickname - the Dragon-Verse version of "Return of the King" because of all the epilogues.
> 
> In this one, have a little family fluff. :)

 

**_25 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Imperial Throneworld_ **

****

Phillip sighed, exhausted, as he walked into the house that had been provided for him and his family during the HYDRA trials.

It was expected for him to be there, as not only a witness but as the sitting Director of Torchwood, even though he’d been ostensibly on leave at the time when all the shit had gone down. Danielle had also pointed out that, as the Hero of the Empire that all the newsfeeds were calling him, it would be best if he appeared throughout the entire set of trials for the heads of HYDRA.

He really hated that ‘Hero of the Empire’ shit.

Every member of the family had attended at certain points during the proceedings, in order to give testimony on what they’d seen and witnessed; even Cadi, who’d re-adopted her Harkness-Jones surname for the occasion, and perhaps for good.  Of course, Danielle knew who she really was, but the Empress was also fairly kept up-to-date on Cadi’s doings, so knew that many of the crimes that she was supposedly wanted for weren’t really against the Empire.  She was a crucial witness, although appearing for questioning in front of the Court had been nerve-wracking for her. 

The highlights, though, had been the testimonies of Suzie Costello, Diane Holmes, and Casey Shraeger.  Suzie and Diane had been held by HYDRA the longest, Suzie having been forced to be their thief in exchange for her wife’s life.  Suzie had been understandably nervous about admitting every single bit of her involvement, but the Empress had told her that there would be no charges since she’d been obviously coerced.  That reassurance had done a great deal to calm Suzie down enough to give a concise and honest recounting of everything that had happened to her since she’d been approached on Proxima Prime.

The Doctor had also made a very compelling witness.  It wasn’t very often that the Time Lord stayed around long enough for this sort of thing, but he’d been important to tell the story of what had occurred at the Library.  Merlin had, as well, but he only could recall certain things, since the period of time between his kidnapping and him escaping into the Data Core were a complete blank.  He very carefully skirted around him resurrecting his mother, but that was for the best.  No one needed to know about that, and it wasn’t relevant to the case at hand.

They’d even managed to have Rowena and Skylar testify from Ddraig Llyn, via comms.  Henry and Abraham had corroborated Rowena’s story, filling in certain details; as had Alyce and Robyn, with Skylar’s tale. 

Brant Charlton had also given evidence having to do with the attempted kidnapping of Price Joshua.  When he wasn’t busy with his duties, Brant had been spending a lot of time with Clint, getting caught up with one another.  Phillip wasn’t sure he’d ever completely trust the reincarnation of Barney Barton, but one never could tell, and Brant seemed to be trying to make up for past-life deeds.

There had also been a transcript from Stark, about what the Central Computer had found in Persephone Corporation’s computers, although they really had yet to corroborate anything; the fact-finding mission to Trafusis had been put on hold, pending the Doctor’s cleaning house there.  Nothing was said about just who this Central Computer was, but that was also something that didn’t need to be broadcast.

In the end, all conspirators had been found guilty of the crimes they’d been accused of.   The only one of them tried _in_ _absentia_ was Adam.

Danielle had wanted to get him into open court, but it had been Henry who’d convinced her that it wouldn’t have been a good idea to bring him out of cryogenic freeze. She eventually agreed, and had ended up claiming that the mastermind behind the plan had been killed in an attempt to escape. 

They’d left the Dragon Slayer out of it, since that had been Jones Clan business, and vengeance had been taken against him, just not in the way anyone had planned.

Especially Ianto, but even he’d admitted that it had turned out for the best.

Phillip unbuttoned a couple of the buttons on his uniform tunic, rolling the sleeves up almost to his elbows.  It needed to be laundered anyway, so he wasn’t too concerned about it wrinkling.  The lounge was quiet, but from deeper within the house he could make out laughter, so he followed the noise back toward the bedrooms.

One of the five bedrooms had been converted into a nursery for Daisy, and that was where the noise was coming from.  Phillip went to the open door, leaning against the jamb to watch fondly as his mate, his older children – except for Skylar, who was still confined to his dragon form back at Ddraig Llyn – and Joshua played with Daisy on the thickly carpeted floor, the little dragon happily pouncing on the prince in a rather clumsy attempt at tickling him.  Joshua giggled breathlessly as he fell backward, and Daisy promptly sat on his chest in what was an obvious show of infant triumph.

Clint looked up and caught his gaze, and the pleasure at seeing him standing there shown in his mate’s eyes, so strong it made Phillip’s heart to lurch a little.  He’d finally been able to let Phillip know about their baby’s recognising Toshiko, but Phillip wasn’t worried about that as yet.  Whoever Daisy was a reincarnation of, she was far too young for it to truly register with her yet.  When she got older, then they’d worry, and help her as much as they could.  Until then, she was their little girl, and Phillip wasn’t in a hurry for her to grow up yet.

At that moment, Daisy noticed her Dad was home as well, and she tried to leap into the air, in order to fly to him; she only managed a couple of clumsy hops, calling, “Da! Da! Da!” over and over again; in the last couple of weeks, Daisy had apparently come to the conclusion that, if she could say something once, then saying it multiple times was better.

Phillip chuckled, reaching down for his youngest.  She happily jumped into his embrace, chattering at him as she usually did, letting him cuddle her.  “And how’s my little girl?” he asked softly in a break between her attempts at telling him how her day had been.

Daisy gave out a very satisfied coo, snuggling down deeper in his arms, and Phillip wondered, not for the first time, what he’d done to deserve the family he’d been given.

Clint had gotten to his feet, and leaned in to give Phillip a light kiss.  For once, none of their elder children said a thing against it, which was refreshing.   “You’re home a little earlier than usual,” he commented.  “Not that I’m complaining, of course.”

“Of course,” Phillip echoed dryly.  “The verdict came in: guilty for everyone involved.  Danielle has officially dismissed me from Court duty.”

“Thank Goddess for that,” his mate sighed.  “I didn’t think it was ever going to wrap up.”

It had been a long several weeks; the immortal couldn’t argue with that.  “There’s just one more thing to do, and then we can leave.”

“The commendation ceremony.”

Phillip grimaced.  He’d tried to argue against it, but Danielle had been adamant about it.  Presenting Phillip with the highest award the Empire could give and making him some sort of Knight of the Human Empire had been the least she’d said she could give him.  He pointed out that she’d technically given him a planet already, but the Empress had simply blown that off as a gift for the entire family, and not just him.

He knew better than to argue with her Imperial Majesty about something like this.  He’d learned a very long time ago to pick his battles, and Phillip had come to realise that this was one he would never win.

“Is it time for me to go home now, Director Phillip?” Joshua asked, sounding almost hesitant.  Clint had taken on minder duties while the Court was in session, and Danielle had been more than happy to let him. 

Phillip knelt in front of the prince, who’d also stood up.  “Not yet.  How about dinner first?”

The little boy smiled.  “Macaroni and cheese?” he asked hopefully.

Clint laughed.  “Macaroni and cheese it is.” 

“It’s a good thing we all like it,” Nicole observed, laughing.  “I think we’ve had it almost every other meal now.”

She wasn’t far wrong.  Joshua loved the stuff, and didn’t get it all that often.  Phillip thought that spoiling him a little, since his parents were busy, was something the boy deserved. 

“It’s a little early,” Phillip said, “and I was hoping I could have a little family talk before we eat.”

That pronouncement earned him all different sorts of expressions, from curious to resigned.  He hastily reassured them that it wasn’t bad news, and then ushered them out to the lounge where they could be comfortable. 

Clint ducked into the kitchen while they were settling.  Joshua decided he wanted to sit next to Phillip and, not noticing the indulgent little smiles the older children gave the prince, cuddled up into the immortal’s side. Nicole fetched a colourful afghan that Samara had made and tucked it around the child, so he wouldn’t get cold sitting so close.

Phillip didn’t know what it was about him that children seemed to be drawn to, but he wasn’t going to question it. 

Clint came back in with drinks, and Phillip thanked his mate as he was handed a cup of steaming coffee, having to juggle a content Daisy into his lap in order to take it.  While Clint’s brew would never reach the addictive heights that Ianto’s did, he _did_ learn from the master, so it was damned close.

The heat of the drink flowed through him, warming him just a little.  It would take more than coffee to ever completely heat him through ever again, but Phillip had gotten used to it.

Nathan also got coffee, but Joshua and Nicole were served hot cocoa.  Once Clint’s host duties were done, he curled up on Phillip’s other side with his own cup, his more marshmallows than chocolate.

This was nice.  The only one missing was Skylar, and Phillip missed his son terribly.  But he was still unable to take on his human form, and Skylar had insisted that the family accompany their Dad back to Throneworld for the trials, saying that he’d just harass the rest of the family when he needed something.  The young dragon was decidedly antsy at having to remain bedridden, but he was trying very hard not to be a burden.  They talked to him every night over the vidscreen, and Phillip was looking forward to him joining them soon.

“After all this is done,” he began, “I was wondering how the rest of you felt about taking a vacation…to Asgard.”

He’d mentioned it to Clint, back during all the now-cleaned up mess, but wanted to let his mate know that he’d fully meant it.  There had been times in their relationship that Phillip had let duty get in the way of his personal life, and he fully intended not to let that happen as often as it used to.

Nathan perked up, sliding forward in his chair, his face excited.  “Are you serious?”

“Very much so.”

Nicole looked just as excited as her brother.  But then, Phillip knew she had a long-standing crush on the Lady Sif, so that was understandable.  It was also cute.  Sif allowed it, but really just thought of Nicole as a younger sister.  A much younger sister.

“King Thor keeps asking if we’ll visit,” Phillip continued, “so I thought we might as well take him up on his offer.” 

He wasn’t exactly looking forward to seeing Loki, but after so many centuries the two of them had developed an equilibrium in their dealings, and could actually stand to be in the same room with each other.  Clint still held a grudge, but that had also mellowed a bit over the years, until now he was just more likely to glare at the Trickster God instead of trying to put an arrow through one of his eyes.

Phillip had even gotten used to the laughter every time he brought up the subject of his magic.  Personally, he’d long ago come to the conclusion that Loki didn’t have a clue, either, and was laughing because he wanted to make everyone uncomfortable.

It worked.  Not that he was ever going to admit that, of course.

“When are we leaving?” Nicole asked.

“As soon as your Uncle Gareth clears Skylar to take on his human form, which I have on good authority will most likely be next week.  Then, we’ll make the arrangements. And,” he looked down at Joshua, “your mother and father have given me permission to take you with us, Joshua.  If you’d like to go.”

The little boy’s eyes went as wide as saucers.  “I get to meet _Thor_?” Joshua whispered, overwhelmed.

“Yes, if you want to go with us, that is.”

It really was a formality to ask, at this point, because Phillip knew of Joshua’s love for anything to do with the historic Avengers, since the immortal had been the one to feed that love on far too many occasions to count.  Danielle was patiently fond with all of their nonsense, in that way of mothers throughout all of space and time were.

Joshua was speechless, and Clint laughed.  “I think that’s a yes.”

Daisy sat up, looking at Joshua as if sensing the boy’s sheer happiness at the prospect of meeting one of his heroes.  She leaped onto him, wings flapping uselessly, and began chirping at him, as if asking him what he was so happy about.

The boy hugged her, being careful of her wings, and Phillip thought it was unbelievably adorable.  Clint must have agreed, because he had leaned across the immortal’s lap in order to aim his wrist computer at the pair, taking a couple of pictures for posterity.

Prince Joshua turned bright eyes onto Phillip.  “Thank you so much for inviting me, Director Phillip.”

“You are quite welcome.” 

“Can I…”  the youngster looked uncertain, biting his lip.

“Can you what?” the immortal carefully prodded the boy.

“Mum calls you Uncle Phillip sometimes.  Can I do that, too?”

Phillip knew he wasn’t hiding just how honoured and touched he was by the request.  He’d always been an uncle to generations of Imperial children, but it never ceased to humble him.  “Of course you can, Joshua.”

The prince gave him a brilliant smile.  “And do you have any really good stories about Thor?”

He couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up inside him at the disingenuous request.  “Stories I haven’t already told you?”

The rest of his family laughed as well, as Joshua said, “I don’t mind if I’ve heard them before, Uncle Phillip.  Cause I’m sure Daisy hasn’t, yet, and she needs to know about the Avengers, too, since she’s named for Quake and all.”

“You know,” Nathan said, “you should take that figure of Dad with you, Joshua.  Thor would love to see it.”

“You think he will?” There was such bright joy in that question that Phillip didn’t have the heart to glare at his eldest son for even suggesting such a thing.  He’d been hoping that Danielle’s offer of designing a toy after him had been to placate Joshua, and that it would never actually get made, but he really should have known better.   “Should I take Quake, too?  So Director doesn’t get lonely?”

“That’s a lovely idea,” Nicole joined in. 

Phillip could feel Clint trying very hard not to laugh, just from the way his mate was shaking against him.  He put up with it, because he knew it was good-natured, and if his family couldn’t tease him, then who could?  They all knew he didn’t care at all for the notoriety he’d recently gained, but to them he was still their father and their mate and that would never change.

He loved them all with a fierceness that a dragon would envy.  That would never change, either.

There was still a lot to do.  However, Phillip was going to put his family first, and let Melinda handle Torchwood until he got back.  She’d already agreed, which was a good thing because he hadn’t been about to give her a choice.  He needed this time with his family, and he was going to take it.  He’d learned long ago just what sort of toll being with Torchwood could take on a family, from the first-hand experience of Jack and Ianto and Anwyn, and didn’t want that to happen to his own.

Then he would go back to Torchwood, and to the greater visibility of being some sort of hero, and he would do his job. 

But, for now, his family was more important. 

That would never change, no matter how many centuries passed.

Phillip Coulson-Jones was happy.  He was going to indulge in it.

 

 


	58. Chapter 58

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some more fluff. :)

 

**_25 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Ddraig Llyn_ **

****

It was yet another message from Morag Salazar, and Henry quite cheerfully deleted it.

“Another one?” Rowena enquired.

He turned away from the vidscreen and toward his mate.  She looked so much better than she had, her colour almost completely returned.  Her chest was still bandaged, but it was now more to support her injured flight muscles than keeping the wound area clean; the wound itself had healed into a long scar, the scales just now starting to grow back in.  It would be several more weeks before she could change into her human form, and it was a good thing she was the calm, patient sort, or else she would have started getting cabin fever by now.

Although she hadn’t been at all happy about Henry going off to Earth without her, on their chase for Adam, but he’d promised her he’d be careful, and he hadn’t even died once.

“How can you tell?” he asked.

“You get this look of satisfaction on your face when you delete another message from Morag.  It’s quite terrifying.”

Henry laughed.  “I can’t help it if she makes me angry.”

Her large, blue eyes blinked at him, and she smiled with every single tooth she had.  It would have had anyone who didn’t know what a sweetheart she was shaking in their boots.  “At least I had the pleasure of yelling at her when we quit.”

Morag Salazar, Vice Chancellor of Luna University, had apparently decided that letting them resign after they’d been refused any sort of leave past the proscribed bereavement period had been a mistake, and was desperately trying to lure them back with all sorts of promises that, really, she didn’t have any sort of authority to make.  Henry was halfway tempted to go back, just to get the insufferable woman into trouble with the Board.

Henry had absolutely no intention of truly going back.  He felt as if he and Rowena had thoroughly burned that bridge the day they walked out.

He had other plans now.

“I was hoping for an acceptance letter,” he told her.

“You’ll get one,” she assured him.  “Who wouldn’t want a _bona_ _fide_ immortal as part of their archaeological programme?”

What she said was certainly true.  When they’d left University and before the attack in their very home, Rowena had suggested that Henry become an accredited archaeologist, and that they start running their own digs together.  Henry had loved the idea, and had sent in several enquiry letters but had yet to hear back.  Still, this sort of thing usually took some time, and he wasn’t going to leave anyway until after Rowena had their children.

He still couldn’t believe that his mate was pregnant…and with twins.  It made him positively giddy thinking about it.  They’d long wanted children, which had led them to adopting Abraham and Jocelyn, the babies that had been in the eggs taken from Warehouse 12 by Helena Wells, at the behest of Rhys and Samara Williams.  There hadn’t been any guarantee that they would hatch, and yet they had, and now they had two dragon children…and now two natural children on the way.

It made him so very glad that Adam was now out of the way.  Because, if he’d found out that Rowena was pregnant…Henry didn’t want to think what he would have done.  It was bad enough that Adam hadn’t known when he’d sent the Dragon Slayer after Rowena.

But, Adam was in cryogenic suspension, deep within the bedrock confines of the Torchwood Archive on Hubworld, and there he would stay until the last stars burned out.

“It’s not like we don’t have time,” she added. 

Henry would have thought the same thing, if Rowena hadn’t just come very close to being killed.  Still, she was alive, and that was all that mattered.  But it had given him a perspective that he hadn’t really considered before: that he might very well outlive even his mostly immortal mate and children.  Because – and it really hit home for him – while Rowena would live for eternity, there were still things out there that could, conceivably, kill her.  It wasn’t something he wanted to think about, but it was there, now, in the back of his mind, and it would remain there forever.

He was brought out of thoughts by a knock at the open door.  Gareth stood there, looking pleased.  “It’s good to see one of my patients is following my orders,” he said as he stepped into the room.

“Skylar?” It couldn’t have been anyone else.

“Skylar,” Gareth agreed with Henry.  “And yet, he’s not actually going against them, either.  He’s just twitchy and whiny about going to Asgard with his parents and siblings.”

“Oh?” Rowena lifted her head up a little, the better to look at her brother.

“Apparently, Phillip suggested it,” Gareth answered.  “He wants to take Clint and the children to Asgard for a couple of weeks.  Phillip mentioned it to Skylar, and he’s been looking forward to it ever since, since he’s never gone and Nathan and Nicole have.”

“I’ve never been to Asgard,” Henry exclaimed.  He’d heard things about the Asgardians, and he’d actually seen Thor a couple of times, back when the Avengers had been a thing.  But then, living in New York had meant he’d been at Ground Zero for a couple of major alien invasions.  Not on par with what the former United Kingdom had suffered, but still…

“But you’re not a personal friend to King Thor, either,” Rowena pointed out. 

“Alright, yes…but I’d still like to see it some time.  I can’t even imagine travelling the Bifrost…”  He also didn’t pretend to understand the science behind the Bifrost, only that it was some sort of technologically controlled wormhole…perhaps.  He’d have to ask about it, because now he was curious.

“You’ll have to settle for Phillip’s stories for now.”

Henry gave his mate such an outrageous pout that Rowena laughed, and then groaned slightly as the still-sore muscles in her chest pulled at the movement.

“Take it easy,” Gareth waggled a finger at her, and then Henry.  “Don’t make her laugh that hard again, at least for the time being.”

“I make no promises,” the immortal smirked.  “After all, don’t they say that laughter is the best medicine?”

“Unless the laughter pulls at mostly-healed injuries.”  Gareth set his medical satchel down on the large wooden table that Ianto had had brought in.  He had to push aside a large, silver platter, which had held Rowena’s breakfast.  She’d eaten it all, for which Henry was glad.  “It’s time for your morning check-up, and I also finally got the ultrasound scanner that I asked for Jemma to forward.  She apologises for not getting it here sooner, but she’d been swamped lately.”

Henry could understand.  Jemma had been one of the science boffins that had been called to testify at the trial for the various HYDRA members, especially where Uther Pendragon’s and Morgause Gorlois’ versions of the same doomsday weapon was concerned.  She and Fitz had been very popular witnesses, according to Phillip.

“Today, I’ll be able to confirm what the Water Dragon claimed,” he went on.  “Not that I don’t trust him, but I do like to see things for myself.”

“Will you be able to tell any genders?” Rowena asked.

“Not yet.  It’s still too soon. I’d say we can check in about another four weeks, then…if you want to know, we’ll know.”

Rowena glanced at Henry.  They’d discussed it, and he nodded to let her know he hadn’t changed his mind.  “We want to know,” she said. 

“Alright, then.  We have a date in four weeks.”  Gareth gave her a sunny smile.  “Now, let me check the wound area and see if we can get some sort of update on when you can be up and human again.”

He flipped open his case, and removed the portable scanner he’d been using to keep an eye on the deep tissue damage done by the Dragon Slayer’s blade.  It still amazed Henry how much medical science had grown since he’d gotten his medical degree but then, that had been back in the 18th century, when there had been some doctors who still thought that illness was caused by an imbalance of the bodily humours. 

Alright, he was exaggerating…a little.

Gareth didn’t even bother removing the bindings.  The wound itself was pretty much healed, so there was no real reason to change them yet.  The scanner hummed softly, and Gareth hummed along with it.  “Well, if you keep healing at this rate, I’d say you’ll be able to attempt to change shape in another two weeks.”  He switched the scanner off.  “You’re still going to need a lot of time in your dragon form, but I don’t see an issue with you being able to join the family for meals and such.”

Rowena smiled in relief, and Henry knew his own expression matched hers.  “That is great news.”

“Now,” Gareth went back to his satchel, “let’s check out the newest little ones, shall we?”

The second scanner was a little larger, with a projector on it that would throw up a hologram of the babies for everyone to see.  Henry felt his heart begin to race as Gareth positioned Rowena the way he needed her to lay, solicitous of her injury, and then set the scanner over her exposed abdomen. 

He switched the hologram on.

Henry felt the sudden need to sit down.

“What is it?” Rowena demanded, as she noticed Henry’s shocked reaction.  His mate very carefully turned her head toward the display, her own mouth hanging open in surprise.  “Is that…?” she asked faintly.

Gareth was grinning like a madman.  “Congratulations…it’s quadruplets.”

 

 

 


	59. Chapter 59

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't quite as fluffy, but I couldn't keep that sort of thing up for long... *laughs*

 

**_25 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Gliese 581g_ **

**_Hubworld_ **

****

“I would pout and say it wasn’t fair,” Toshiko sighed, “but I try _not_ to sound my physical age.”

She leaned against the lab bench, knowing she wasn’t going to be staying long, not with Melinda May breathing down her neck.  The only reason she’d been allowed in the lab was because she’d asked nicely; plus, she’d walked into a HYDRA bunker that had once belonged to UNIT and had made a mash of their surveillance, as well as overloading a teleport with just the junk she had on hand.  Melinda had been impressed despite herself, but she still wasn’t going to allow a ten-year-old to work for Torchwood.  There were some pretty strict laws about that sort of thing.

“It won’t be long,” Jemma comforted.  “Personally, Fitz and I can’t wait to have you in the lab with us.”

Fitz nodded in agreement.  It was odd seeing them as Lorelans, but at the same time it was great to know that they were still around.  Toshiko had genuinely liked both of them when they’d been with SHIELD, and they’d done good work during the SHIELD/Torchwood exchange programme before SHIELD had fallen, when they’d been loaned to Torchwood House. 

“Yeah, Tosh,” Owen said.  “It’ll be like getting the gang back together.”

“A regular Torchwood reunion,” Diane added.

“With an extra person,” Suzie put in, grinning. 

“It’s only six years,” Fitz said.  “And, in the meantime, you have your network set up out at Ddraig Llyn.  You’re working, just not technically for Torchwood.”

This was true. It would also give her the opportunity to fine tune her intelligence gathering capabilities before putting it officially into circulation. 

“Aren’t you and Fitz supposed to be going to Trafusis?” she asked, changing the subject.

Jemma shrugged.  “Trip got postponed.  The Doctor convinced Her Imperial Majesty to let him handle a few things on Trafusis first.”

“Slavery rings,” Fitz said in disgust. 

“The Doctor feels he’ll be more successful if ImpSec wasn’t breathing down planetary security’s collective necks,” Jemma added.  “Then he suggested that Torchwood take point, since we have a good reputation there, thanks to some work that Sabrina did there several years ago.”

Everyone got a little sad at the mention of Sabrina. Toshiko wished she could have met her officially, instead of through intermediaries, but that couldn’t have been helped.  Toshiko appearing as she was now would have only made a strange situation worse.

“Then there’s Dr Banner,” Jemma got suddenly enthusiastic.  “I can’t believe he’s still alive!  This is exciting news!”

As everyone chatted on about what it meant for Bruce Banner to be on Trafusis and still able to kick arse as the Hulk, Toshiko let it all wash over her, basking in being around people who knew who she was, and not as the child she appeared to be.  She might have been too young legally to work, but six years wasn’t really all that long.  She’d been on her own for half of her life, and was more of an adult than a lot of ten-year-olds out there, but in the eyes of Imperial law she was still a minor.

She watched her friends as they bantered back and forth, and suddenly felt a pang of jealousy.  Jemma and Fitz had found each other again; as had Owen and Diane, and they’d added Suzie into their relationship.  Certainly, Toshiko was too young to be in the sort of relationships they had, and besides her immature endocrine system wasn’t equipped for it anyway.

Still, it made her wonder just where Kathy was.  If she’d someday see the woman she’d loved back in her time with the old team, and if they would still have that same spark.

Toshiko knew just how she could find out where Kathy’s soul might be.

The means of it was in a plastic tray on the workbench, there in that very lab.

The Reincarnation Crystal.

It was so very tempting.  But Toshiko knew, even if she could discover where Kathy might be now, there was no way she would ever use that magic to bring her memories back, in case she didn’t have them already.  Could she simply use it to find if Kathy was out there, somewhere?

Of course she could.

Still, was it worth knowing that the love of her life was out there, living without remembering what she’d meant to a certain Toshiko Sato?  Was it enough for Toshiko to have the knowledge that Kathy was safe? 

Would she even be able to use the crystal without anyone noticing?

There was still so much they didn’t know about the magic that had twisted the crystal from its original intent.  Already, it had affected Merlin.  Toshiko, who didn’t have a drop of magic in her, might not even be able to make it work. 

But then, Morgause had used it on Lisa.  So there was a very good chance Toshiko herself would be able to do it as well.

The crystal was calling to her.  Toshiko edged her way along the table, keeping an eye on her friends, not wanting to give the game away.  All she wanted was to know that Kathy was safe, and happy, and then she’d put the thing out of her mind.

“Are you alright, Tosh?” Owen asked, breaking her out of the trance she’d nearly fallen into.

She sighed, then turned to look at him, suddenly very grateful he’d caught her.  “I’m fine.  But thanks.”

“Not a problem, sweetheart,” her friend replied. 

Toshiko rolled her eyes.  “I’m not your sweetheart, Owen.”

“Yeah, you kinda are.  And there’s no way I’m gonna keep from teasing you about being a kid.  You know that, right?”

“If you didn’t,” she laughed, “you wouldn’t be Owen Harper.  Although, I reserve the right to tease you about being Polari.”

“Why not?  Everyone else does! And I’m sure I can get you for being a bloody child.”

She gave him a smile, and then found herself blurting, “It’s just that you all have each other, and I don’t have anyone.  I miss Kathy, you know?  I just…” she stopped talking, not wanting to make a complete fool out of herself.

“You want to know where she is,” Diane guessed. 

“Kathy?” Suzie asked.

“Detective Chief Inspector Kathy Swanson,” Toshiko explained.  “She was Ianto’s friend and contact with the Cardiff Police, but then…well,” she felt herself blushing, “we fell in love and got married.  We even adopted a child together.  She was the love of my life.”

Suzie looked surprised; of course, she’d been acquainted with Kathy, but really hadn’t _known_ her, not like anyone else in the lab including Jemma and Fitz.  Before That Year, Kathy had been more of Ianto’s friend than anyone’s, and had been the one he most often liaised with when it came to the police. 

Diane was nodding in understanding; but then, she’d been a part of the team and had been at the wedding.  “And you want to use the magical crystal to find her.”

“Well, I didn’t until just now,” she admitted.  “Then I saw you all together, and the crystal is lying just there…”  She felt a flush of anger. “Do you blame me for wanting to see the woman I love?”

“Not at all,” Diane reassured her.

“You and Swanson were great together,” Owen said, “almost as good as Diane and me back then.”

Toshiko wanted to slap him for making light of her feelings, but knew that was just the way he was and that he didn’t mean anything by it. 

“Then,” Jemma said tentatively, “why don’t you use it?”

Toshiko’s heart pounded painfully in her chest.  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea…”

“We can say it was a test of the crystal’s capabilities,” Fitz said.  “We really need to know exactly what it does before we try to reverse-engineer it in order to find any other HYDRA reincarnations out there.  If there are anymore out there, that is.”

“Fitz’s right,” Owen agreed.  “We can use this as a test of the crystal’s magic.  I have to admit, I’ve been dead curious about it.  Merlin and I worked with it before it tagged him, and we figured out quite a bit about it, but not how it actually finds the souls it’s asked to. This would be the perfect opportunity.”

“And we know you won’t misuse it,” Diane said.  “We trust you, Tosh.”

Suzie, though, was biting her lip.  “Are we certain this is a good thing?”

Everyone in the room looked at her, including Toshiko.  She’d heard what had happened to Suzie, how HYDRA had found her using the crystal, even though she’d already remembered her past.  They’d used her once she’d turned them down, and it had to still be a very sore point for her. Toshiko didn’t want to hurt her in any way, and said so.  “I won’t do this if Suzie doesn’t agree, because she’s had the worst experience because of that artefact.”

Suzie barked out a harsh laugh.  “So, I’m the gooseberry in this situation?”

“No, not at all!” The girl reached over and took her friend’s hand.  No matter how things had turned out, Toshiko and Suzie _had_ been friends of a sort, and she felt closer than ever to her now.  “Your opinion is as important as what I want, Suzie.  You need to have a say in this experiment, too.”

“It’s just that...” Suzie sighed.  “Tosh, I know you won’t go out and track down your Kathy.  I _know_ that. You’re not like HYDRA at all.  I just remember being tracked down with it, and they used me.  I’m just having trouble separating that in _here_.”  She rested a hand over her heart.  “While in _here_ ,” she pointed toward her head, “intellectually, I understand what you want to do.  But, at the same time, I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”  She gave both Owen and Diane such a look that it had Jemma making happy noises and touched Toshiko’s own heart.  “I would have done anything to get them back.”

“And you did,” Owen said.  He wasn’t giving her the same look, but Toshiko knew that Owen wasn’t like that.  He very rarely wore his emotions so openly.

“We all would,” Jemma said stoutly.  “But there’s something else you might want to consider.”

“What?” Suzie asked.

“That, every single one of us who’ve regained their previous memories have had a hard time of it,” she pointed out.  “Well, except for Fitz and I, but that was because we happened to have been reborn into a race that recognises reincarnation and has been actively studying the phenomena for years.  If we can somehow use the crystal to find the ones who have been reborn with their memories intact, we can help them assimilate those memories, and even help their families understand what their children are going through.”

“I was almost sectioned because of my memories,” Suzie said, nodding.

“My parents just thought I had a very active imagination,” Diane added, “but even as a child I could tell how worried they were about me.”

“And I was pretty much a pariah among the Polari,” Owen volunteered, “mainly because I’m about as different from the rest of them as I could be and still be a resident of our planet.”

“My parents died before they could do anything about my ‘strangeness’,” Toshiko put in, “and then I had to prove my worth to them before they’d keep me.  In a way, I was lucky they died.”  She hated saying it, but it was all too true.  Smuggler’s Moon wasn’t really the place for an overly intelligent, precocious child with more memories than she should have possessed.

“That makes sense,” Suzie agreed.  “But would Phillip go along with it?  Let alone Jack, and Ianto?”

“And then there’s Merlin,” Owen said.  “He got bit by that thing once already.  It’s going to take some heavy duty convincing to get him to go along.”

“That’s why we should do some testing first,” Fitz answered eagerly.  “If we had proof that this would actually work…”

The more they talked, the more Toshiko wanted to do this.  It had been so very hard growing up into the memories of another life, and if this worked then maybe they could help anyone else that it happened to. 

There were downsides to searching out Kathy like this, though.  Toshiko wasn’t about to lie to herself and believe in happy endings, because so many things could go horribly wrong.  Still, it was a risk she really wanted to take, and if it broke her heart at least she’d have some answers.

But she wouldn’t if not everyone agreed to it. 

“Then let’s do this,” Suzie committed to the testing.

Jemma fetched the crystal, careful not to actually touch it and carrying it in its assigned Archive tray.  She set it gently down in front of Toshiko.  “You can back out anytime,” she murmured. 

“I know.”  But she wasn’t about to.  Not now, that she had the approval of the people in this room.  Certainly, Phillip and the others could get really mad at them for doing it, but it was worth the dressing down they would all receive, if they could get the crystal to actually work.

“Now,” Owen said briskly, “we know that you don’t need any magic to use it, or else Morgause wouldn’t have been able to do what she did to Lisa.”

“How does it work?” Toshiko asked breathlessly, staring into the clear depths of the crystal.  There was a single flaw within it that resembled a heart…in the heart of the stone.  That couldn’t be a coincidence, but then Toshiko didn’t know all that much about magic, not having needed it in this current life.   She hadn’t needed it much during her Torchwood days, either, except for the times she’d relied on the abilities she’d gotten as the Friend of Earth, and none of that had to do with the sort of divination she’d be attempting today.

“From what Merlin’s said,” her friend explained, “the cave where the crystal was taken from is mythically the source of all magic, or where magic began…personally, that’s all bollocks, magic is a primal force in the universe and not just from one dinky cave on Earth.  Still, the crystals within give someone to ability to see possible futures.  What Lucy did to this one was tweak it just enough to show the past of certain souls.  So, you should be able to ask it to show you Kathy, as she is now, and it hypothetically it should work.”

She looked up at him, quirking an eyebrow at him.  “Hypothetically?”

“Well, we won’t know if it works until you try it, sweetheart.”

Owen was right, even if he was calling her ‘sweetheart’.  She’d have to break him of that at some point. 

Taking a deep breath, Toshiko turned her attention back to the crystal.  It reflected back the overhead lights, flashing and almost blinding her.  She blinked rapidly to clear her vision…and realised that it wasn’t the reflection that was blinding her.

The crystal was reacting to her, but just staring at it wasn’t enough.

Toshiko cleared her mind, reaching out to touch the stone.  It was warm under her fingers, and unbidden images of Kathy flitted across her minds’ eye: their first meeting; the first time they kissed; the first time they made love.  Kathy proposing to her under the full moon.  So many memories of her, they were moving fast and furious…

And then, they cleared away.

Toshiko Sato saw where the love of her life was, as well as _who_ she was.

A child, a little younger than Toshiko herself was.  Saddened at the loss of a beloved father to a sudden, inexplicable death.  Having dreams that she couldn’t remember.

But it was obvious that the soul that had once belonged to Kathy Swanson was gradually remembering.

All Toshiko had to do was wait.

 

 


	60. Chapter 60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may notice that the chapter count went up by one, that's because I miscounted. Oops?

 

**_27 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Trafusis_ **

****

“Doc,” Jem said, sticking his head around the door of the study, “ya gotta package.”

Bruce Banner frowned slightly.  He hadn’t been expecting anything.  In fact, he’d been hoping for a quiet day, after the last couple of weeks.   He wasn’t that young anymore, and even with the stamina that the Other Guy contributed, he was still a bit tired.  Add into that a child who was deep into her schoolwork and needing help with some of it and a steady stream of patients…yeah, Bruce was ready for a break.

True to his word, the Doctor had come back to Trafusis after HYDRA had been mopped up.  It hadn’t taken him long to take care of the underground slavery markets, once he’d gotten the first whiff of a lead.  Bruce had known that one of the Time Lord’s many nicknames was the Oncoming Storm, but he hadn’t really seen it in action until he’d stood in the centre of the main slave market, calling out the leaders of the rings and putting them in their places.  It had been truly epic, and Bruce wouldn’t have given up seeing that for _anything_.

Once he’d finished and left, taking Cadi with him, things had returned to normal for Trafusis…well, a new form of normal without the ever-present threat of the criminal gangs that had run the slave trade.  Bruce could practically feel the difference in the atmosphere, and things were much better now.  In fact, there hadn’t been that much of an uproar when it was announced that there would be an ImpSec presence on the planet shortly, to investigate Thorne Consolidated and to make the transfer of power to the next COE that much easier.  The trials on Throneworld had been up on every public newsfeed, so the entire populace had known just what Petra Thorne had done, so that was another point in the favour of a peaceful handover.  It wasn’t as if the Imperial Security team would take up residence there, although there were some – Bruce included – wished they would.  There was still a chance that the slaver gangs might reform, and no one wanted to see that.

Still, it boded well for ImpSec – and Torchwood, who would also be accompanying the investigation team – that the citizens might be more than willing to report that sort of thing now, after the Doctor had cleaned house, so to speak.  A lot of people remembered Sabrina Jones-Swann, and the Doctor had reminded them all of her sacrifice and what she’d done for them before, so Bruce was fairly confident that anything criminal happening without being reported was now small.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and dislodging his glasses in the process.  “Did you scan it?”  He straightened the spectacles once more.

Jem rolled his eyes.  “Please, I’m not an amateur.”

“Forgive me,” Bruce said dryly.  “I forgot you were once a professional.”

Jem snorted.  “And I’ll keep reminding you.”  He stepped into the room, holding out a flat package that was actually wrapped in brightly coloured paper.  “It came up clean.  Seems to be some sort of low-powered comm unit.”  He laughed.  “Someone seems to think it’s your birthing day, Doc.”

No one would have even remembered that day; hells, _Bruce_ couldn’t.  Still, the paper did remind him of birthday paper, with balloons in primary colours decorating it.  “Was there a note?”

“Nope.  It was delivered by a reputable company, though.  The man looked really uncomfortable at being in this area of town.  It was hilarious.”

It would have been.  Bruce was sorry to have missed it.

He accepted the package from Jem, hefting it in his hands.  It had weight to it, if not size; it was about five standard inches on each side, a perfect cube.  Shrugging, Bruce tore off the paper, revealing a red and gold metal box with a very familiar stylised “A” on each side.

His heart pounding in a combination of excitement and terror – obviously not strong enough to rouse the Other Guy though – Bruce touched the control on the top of the cube.

There was a brilliant flash of light, and a holographic face appeared in the air over the comm device.

Bruce laughed in delight.  “You’re still around, Tony?”

The hologram gave Bruce a wide, shit-eating grin.  _“Takes more than a couple of millennia to get rid of me, Brucie Bear.  Looking good, I must say.  The hair is very dignified.”_

The last time Bruce had seen Tony Stark, it had been just before the genius had decided to make himself into an artificial intelligence.  He hadn’t agreed with it, but there hadn’t been a thing Bruce could do to talk Tony out of it.  He’d really thought that Tony was long gone, but apparently he wasn’t…

 _“Stark’s World isn’t just named after me,”_ Tony went on, _“it_ is _me.”_

“How did you find out about me?”  Bruce was very curious indeed on how Tony had found out that he was still around. 

_“A little birdie named Toshiko Sato told me.  Seems she heard it from a certain immortal of our acquaintance, who thought I might like to know that a friend of mine was still alive out there in the universe.”_

Bruce had heard that Toshiko had come back.  “If I’d known that was you out there…”

 _“Yeah, it’s just easier to keep the truth about the Central Computer of Stark’s World is actually the original Tony Stark quiet.  Keeps the gawkers and hackers away.”_ Tony cleared his throat, which was odd coming from a computer.  _“I was thinking of trying to convince you to come for a visit.  I miss having the gang all together.  Sure, there aren’t many of us…you, and me, and Agent and Birdbrain and Thor…and of course Jack and Ianto and those ones who’ve reincarnated…but it would be nice having some sort of reunion.”_

Bruce had to admit…it was tempting.  But he was doing good work on Trafusis, and he had Adrastea to consider…

 _“I can see you’re thinking about it,”_ Tony said, _“but that’s your home, and you don’t want to leave…and, did I hear something about a kid?  You should totally bring her with you.  I’ll even paint a room here in my tower all in pink if that works, although I hate pink as a rule and it’s not good to go all gender normative anymore…”_

Bruce couldn’t help but laugh.  “Adrastea isn’t much into pink, anyway.”

_“There, you’ve just saved me from being all 20 th century on your kid.  Come on, Bruce…you know you want to get the band back together…”_

“I have got so many people counting on me here…”

 _“Of course you do!  You wouldn’t be the Bruce Banner I love and admire if you didn’t!  But, you can also check out some really interesting tech that might be of use to you in your social justice work.  Plus, rumour has it that the Doctor was just there cleaning up after the slavery problem you guys had, and I think we need to work on keeping them out permanently.  What do you say, Bruce?  I’ll make it worth your while…I might even be convinced to bring out one of my old suits to greet you physically…”_ He batted his holographic eyelashes at Bruce in a very exaggerated manner.

Oh, but Bruce really had missed Tony’s brand of sarcastic humour.  “I’ll think about it.”

_“That’s all I ask.  This holocube will let you call me anytime you want.  Being an intelligent computer, I don’t sleep anymore, and sometimes I get bored, so I might be poking you at all hours, just to warn you.”_

“As I seem to recall, you didn’t sleep much as a human being, either.”

_“Point.  So…what’s been going on with you?  Let’s get caught up. I hope you’re not busy for the next several years because it might take a while for me to detail everything I’ve been up to…”_

Bruce settled back in his chair, listening to Tony Stark babble, knowing that at some point his old friend was going to wear him down and he’d end up going to Stark’s World, even if he was still wary of having the Other Guy on a spaceship. 

Maybe he could talk Tony into sending him some sort of personal transmat…

 

 


	61. Chapter 61

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm playing with Doctor Who canon in this chapter...namely, "Day of the Doctor". It's indulgent and I couldn't resist.

 

**_24 November 2013_ **

**_London_ **

****

The Doctor held his cup of tea in one hand, cradling the saucer in the other, as he stared at the painting hanging on the wall, its three-dimensional aspect a brilliant splash of colour against the white plaster.

He wondered how long it would hang there, before Torchwood would come to claim it.  Something like this wouldn’t remain on public display for long, and there wasn’t anyone else he’d trust with it.  The Doctor made a mental note to see if he could somehow get a message to either Jack or Ianto without tipping them off that it was him…

The events of the last day had been…heart-breaking.  Meeting the self he’d always denied existing had brought home to the Doctor just how wrong he’d been to do that, but the memories of what he’d done during the Time War had just been far too painful to ever recall.  He turned away from the painting, to glance toward the wizened figure of his War incarnation as he spoke to Cadi, the smile on his face making him seem so much younger.  But then, that version was over four hundred years younger than the Doctor currently was, but he’d gotten a much older face in that regeneration…which was always more luck – or bad luck – of the draw than anything else. 

Cadi had managed to charm him almost immediately, but the Doctor suspected that the Star Dragon had seen a lot in War’s incarnation that she could identify with.  After all, it had been her who’d realised that War hadn’t yet done the deed, as it were, when the Doctor and his Tenth self hadn’t tumbled to it yet.  Her insight had changed the past…for good or ill, no one could say.

They actually couldn’t even say that what they’d attempted to do, to save Gallifrey, had worked.  There was really no way to know.   But it was hope, and the Doctor would take that over despair any day.

“We don’t really know what it’s called, do we?”

The Doctor turned to regard his Tenth incarnation.  He’d come to stand next to the current Doctor, and was staring at the painting with eyes that seemed just a little less haunted than before.

“It’s either ‘No More’ or ‘Gallifrey Falls’,” The Doctor mused.  He realised that Ten hadn’t been around at the beginning, when the name of the painting had actually been discussed.

“Well,” War grumped, joining them, “that’s not very encouraging.”

The Doctor had to agree with that assessment.

“Any idea how it got here?” Ten asked.

That was a good question.  The last place the painting had been, had been in UNIT’s Black Archive, and the four of them had done a really good job of breaking the glass that had fronted it by using a Dalek to slam through in order to get out of it.  Being stuck inside the painting had been a nightmare that the Doctor didn’t want to repeat.  Whoever had moved it, they’d fixed the glass and it looked as if it had never been damaged at all.  “No idea.”  Although he suspected a few things.  After all, it had been originally there, in the National Gallery, and so it made sense that Kate Lethbridge-Stewart would have sent it back. 

Probably to keep it out of Torchwood’s hands because, if the Doctor had his dates correct, after their confrontation with the Zygons Her Majesty would order UNIT to give up the Black Archive to Torchwood.  Well, it wasn’t the Doctor’s business, really.  UNIT had been the ones to botch things up.  If they hadn’t agreed to help to round up Earth’s children for the 456, they wouldn’t have been in such bad trouble with the Crown, and the Queen wouldn’t have been so keen on kicking them out.

The Doctor made a _second_ mental note to get word to Jack about the painting.  Torchwood would keep it safe.

“Gentlemen,” War exclaimed, “it has been a pleasure, but I think it’s time I leave.”

“Likewise,” Ten said. 

“And,” War continued, “if I grow to be half the man you are…Cadi ap Llyn, I shall be happy indeed.”

Cadi laughed.  “You don’t really want to do that, actually.” 

The Doctor wanted to beg to differ, but he really didn’t want to bring up his friend’s past with either of his previous incarnations. 

Heck, he was damned proud of her during this mess.  She hadn’t changed form once, aware that a dragon showing up in Elizabethan England would have been an anomaly, at a time when the vast majority of dragonkind had been viciously murdered, and that her own father would have gotten word of her in some way.  He hadn’t even had to talk to her about it, first, which made his job that much easier.

She leaned over and kissed War on the cheek.  The Time Lord was glad of that.  He didn’t think he could handle anything more passionate.  Especially since it was actually _him_ she was kissing.  Not that he didn’t _mind_ those sorts of kisses, but Cadi was the daughter of his oldest friends, and there was something about the idea of it that had him shuddering internally.  It would have been like kissing a sister, honestly.  Plus, he didn’t want to get regenerated if either Jack or Ianto found out about it; River would have pouted about having missed it.

War turned pensive.  “I’m not going to remember this, am I.”  It wasn’t a question, but then as a Time Lord it would have been obvious.

The Doctor answered the somewhat rhetorical question, in order to explain to Cadi.  “The time streams are out of sync.  My two previous regenerations won’t be able to retain it.”

“That’s…sad,” Cadi murmured.

“It is,” War sighed wistfully. “I won’t remember that I tried to save Gallifrey, instead of burning it.”

“That’s the way it needs to be,” Ten said gently.  “We did a lot of things in Gallifrey’s name.  We don’t dare change any of it.”

“True.”  War drew himself up.  “I’ll have to live with it.  But for now,” and he gave them all a sunny smile, “in this moment, I am the Doctor again.”  He bowed his head at them.  “Thank you for that.”

With that final word, he turned toward the three TARDIS’s that were lined up against the wall.  Each was different; the one War headed toward was the shabbiest of the three, scratched and damaged from battle, the paint faded to an almost greenish shade.  He opened the door, but before he fully stepped inside he looked back at them once more. 

The Doctor noticed just how young those eyes were.  There was a part of him that wished they could look that way again.

He watched as that particular TARDIS faded away in that oh-so familiar grinding noise, and he could practically _hear_ River whinging on about the parking brake…

He just looked away and back at the painting for a moment, but it was enough for chaos to erupt.

There was a shout, and a thud. 

The Doctor spun around quickly, mouth falling open in shock.

His Tenth self was on his back, staring up at Cadi in surprise, his sonic screwdriver dangling from limp fingers.

Cadi was incensed.  One hand was resting across her chest, while the other was outstretched, and it was obvious to the Doctor that she’d just tossed his younger regeneration to the floor using some sort of martial art move.  Probably one she’d picked up from Clint. 

Alright, he was well aware that the Jones Clan didn’t hold a high opinion of Ten.  It had all stemmed from that mess with the Master, and had just grown over time.  It had taken him regenerating and getting an earful from the woman standing over his former self to get him to take a long look at his actions – and deep into the time stream – so he could put it behind him.  Jack and Ianto had forgiven him for his past behaviour, just as the Doctor had accepted Ianto’s actions as necessary, and of course now they were family.

Still, that didn’t necessarily mean they’d forgiven his last regeneration.  Only his current one.  And there were enough Joneses who’d made certain comments about punching his former self if they got the chance.  He was pretty certain Cadi had been one of them.

Maybe he should have been happy with her self-restraint in just tossing his self to the floor instead of doing any sort of gross bodily harm.

“What?” he shouted.

“He grabbed me without any warning,” Cadi snarled.  “No one touches me without my permission.”

Oh, dear.

“I was going to deactivate that Vortex Manipulator,” Ten shouted, pointing toward the wrist strap that Cadi was still wearing.  “No one should have a working Manipulator.”

If anything, Cadi appeared to get angrier.  “And you didn’t trust your other self to take care of the issue before taking matters into your own hands…without telling me you were going to do it first, so I wouldn’t have knocked you down?”

Honestly, the Doctor had sort of forgotten about it.  Still, he trusted Cadi with the wrist strap, knowing she wouldn’t do anything untoward, and he said so aloud.

That earned him a look of surprise.  “You’d trust someone with working time travel?” Ten asked incredulously.

The Doctor reached down, in order to help himself to his feet.  “I trust _Cadi_ , not just _someone_.  But then, you don’t know her the way I do, so how could you do the same thing?”

He made yet another mental note to go back in time and get another note to Jack, about giving his Vortex Manipulator to the Black Archive for Cadi to use in order to get back to them in Elizabethan England. He’d done the same thing back in the past, when he’d scratched the coordinates in the wall of the cell they’d been tossed into, not knowing if it would actually work, since he seemed to recall breaking the wrist strap quite catastrophically the last time he’d caught Jack with it. Still, it had been a good plan, and so he made that note again to himself. Sometimes he could be a bit forgetful.

Really, his Seventh incarnation had been so much better at all these sorts of Machiavellian plots than he was.  Perhaps he should go back and take some lessons from him.

“You’re not gonna knock him down again, are you?” he asked his companion.

“Only if he does something that tempts me to,” Cadi responded, giving him a sly smile.

“I’m sure he won’t be doing that.”  The Doctor stepped right into his past selves’ personal space.  “You won’t tempt Cadi to do that again, will you?  It’s just that she’s perfectly capable of looking after herself, and I’d hate for you to get a broken nose or something along those lines.”

“A broken nose might be an improvement,” Cadi said impishly.

Ten was giving him such a look of utter disbelief that the Doctor felt a warm glow of pride over it.  “You’d let your companion hit me?”

“ _Let_ …no.  But there’s no stopping Cadi when she feels like there’s been an injustice done.”  The Doctor gave her a grin.  “And that’s the way it should be.”

“I take after my dads like that,” his friend answered proudly.

“That you do.”  The Doctor put his arm around her shoulders.  “And I have permission to touch her.”

That earned him an extremely lascivious wink.  “Yes, you do,” she purred.

“Oi!” he exclaimed.  “None of that, now!”

Cadi laughed.  “I just love to watch you blush, Doctor.”

He rolled his eyes at her.  He hadn’t actually blushed, because he’d gotten used to River making those sorts of comments, so them coming from Cadi hadn’t been all that much of a surprise.  After all, she was very much Jack’s daughter.  Although it was a little unsettling because…well, sisterly feelings for her.

“Don’t tell me,” Ten scoffed, “she’s from the 51st century?  She seems to have the proper attitude for that time zone.”

“Fifty-second, actually.”  Cadi’s face turned serious.  “He won’t remember, too, will he?”

“Not at all.”

“Then…can I tell him?”

The Doctor blinked.  That was something he hadn’t even considered, but he had to admit it would be worth it to see the expression on his other’s face.  “I don’t see why not.”

Ten was giving them both the shifty side-eye.  The Doctor could practically feel the thoughts in his former regeneration’s head, which only made sense since they were the same person, and vaguely telepathic to boot.  Still, none of the scenarios his Tenth persona was considering wasn’t even close to the truth.

“The reason the Doctor trusts me so much,” she began, “is because he knows my dads.”

“And I trust them with my lives,” he felt he had to add.

That earned him a brilliant, happy smile.  “They trust you with theirs, as well.  And the rest of the family’s, too.”

The Doctor was very honoured by that.  It had taken a little bit for that to happen, and he couldn’t have been more pleased by it.  It had meant that he hadn’t completely cocked things up, and the Time Lord was well aware of just how hard he’d worked to do just that. 

“So?” Ten prompted, confused.

“My dads are Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones.”

Oh yeah…there it was.  The anger, and vague disgust, and the Doctor simply stood there, his arm around Cadi’s shoulders, letting her lean against him in support, the warmth of her seeping through his coat. 

“That’s impossible,” his Tenth self scoffed.  “There’s no way that could happen, not with their individual genetics.”

“I can assure you,” the Doctor murmured, “it’s very true.”

“But then,” Cadi added, a hard edge entering her voice, “you always did say my Dad was an impossible thing.”

He would have missed his former regeneration’s slight flinch if he hadn’t been looking for it.

“In the time Cadi is from, Jack and Ianto have seventeen children,” the Doctor didn’t add that five of those were adopted, he didn’t feel that was necessary, “ten grandchildren, and one great-grandchild,” he also didn’t add that Rory was also the Doctor’s grandson, once again not necessary.  Nor did he feel like bringing up the 80-odd eggs that were just waiting in stasis for the right time to be opened. 

“How can you forgive them?” Ten demanded.  “For what they did?”

“I’m just lucky they forgave me for my behaviour toward _them_.”

“Of course they have,” Cadi said stoutly.  “We all have.  Well, forgiven _you_.  This one,” she nodded toward Ten, “is another matter entirely.  I understand he’s you, but…well, you know.”

Indeed, the Doctor did know.  And he understood completely.  In fact, since he’d thought of it, he really _was_ inordinately proud of Cadi for not hauling off and punching his other regeneration before now.  The Doctor was very well aware that the entire Jones Clan had made certain comments about doing that very thing.  Not that he blamed them, really.  The Time Lord had been a bit of an arse over the entire situation. 

And there really wasn’t a thing he could do that would convince the other that he was wrong.  But then, this regeneration had always been a bit too full of his own opinion.  He’d been convinced that Jack was _wrong_ , and that Ianto had murdered the Master, and nothing the current Doctor could do would change his mind about it. 

The expression on the other Doctor’s face was enough to tell him that. 

“I cannot believe I’ll ever do that,” Ten swore.  “There’s nothing that would persuade me otherwise.”

His name was Merlin, and he was the Doctor’s son, but there was no way that was being brought up in this conversation.  Cadi was also responsible, as well, and the Time Lord would always be grateful for that verbal bollicking she’d given him, back when she’d been a mere child. 

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” the Doctor told himself.  “Because you’re missing out on a family you could have, if only you’d bend a little.”

There was no hope of that.  This version had done a lot of good in the universe, but there were some things that he was just too stubborn on, and this was the major one. 

“There’s also such a thing as bending too much.”

Cadi growled softly at that comment.  “It’s fine,” the Doctor waved it off.  “He’s entitled to his opinion.  Besides, we already know how it turns out, don’t we?”

“True,” she answered softly.  “And I’ll always be glad that you’re a part of us now, Doctor.”

It was incredible, being a part of such a family.  The Doctor knew it would take him at least another decade, subjective time, before he, Amy, and Rory would meet a teenaged Cadi and her older sister, Anwyn, on a damaged spaceship, and the Doctor would get a lesson in just what he’d done wrong in the past. 

“And, here I was thinking that my future was in good hands.  It seems I was mistaken.”  With those parting words, the Tenth Doctor stalked into his TARDIS, and was gone.

“He’s wrong, you know,” Cadi argued.  “His future is in the best hands possible.”

“Well,” the Doctor sighed, even though he was pleased that she thought that, “I figured that wouldn’t do any good.”

“I enjoyed it, anyway,” Cadi answered, “even though he won’t remember it.”  Her arm tightened about his waist.  “I wouldn’t change a thing, Doctor.  I wouldn’t want to risk losing your presence in our lives.”

Warmth bloomed in his chest, right over his hearts.  “Yeah, you have a point.”  There was no way he was going to chance the timelines twisting away from how they were now; he didn’t want to lose this family that had adopted him despite what his previous regeneration had done.  Luckily, the memories of what had just happened would fade quickly, or else he never would have agreed to let Cadi inform the other of her parentage.

The TARDIS would also be on his side, even back then.  But then, the ship had always had a soft spot for Jack. 

“Do you want a little alone time with your painting?” she teased lightly.

It wasn’t the only reason he wanted to be alone, but he wasn’t going to admit that.  He suspected he didn’t need to.  “How could you guess?”

“Your eyes are sad,” she admitted.  “I can always tell what you’re feeling just by looking into them.”

She gave him a one-armed hug, then walked back toward their own TARDIS.  Before she could enter, though, she turned.  “Do you think we saved them?”

The Doctor considered her question.  There really was no way of knowing; Gallifrey could have been destroyed in that last moment, despite their extremely desperate plan.  “I hope we did.”

“So do I.  Oh, also…this isn’t my Dad’s wrist strap.  Kate…well, the Zygon who pretended to be Kate…said that Dad had donated it to the Black Archive…but it’s not his.”

The Doctor’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.  “Then where did he get it?”  She was right, of course she was.  Jack would never have given it up, even though it didn’t work anymore.  That wrist strap was a part of him, of his history, and the immortal wouldn’t have wanted it to fall into anyone’s hands, especially hands he didn’t trust.

She stroked the leather around her wrist absently.  “I’m pretty sure it belonged to Uncle Gray.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Gray had to have had one, when he’d come back in time hoping to destroy Jack. “You know, that doesn’t surprise me.”  Another mental note: have Jack lock down the Vortex Manipulator before handing it over to UNIT.  They couldn’t risk anyone figuring out how it worked.

Well, maybe he wouldn’t have to add that, actually.  “Then he won’t have any problem with us disabling it for good.”

“Not at all.”  Cadi gave him a nod, and then entered the TARDIS, leaving the Doctor alone with his thoughts.

It took meeting a very familiar Curator and getting the true name of the painting to reenergise the Time Lord, and to give him even more hope that they’d done the right thing where Gallifrey was concerned.  As he finally followed Cadi into the TARDIS, he knew what he had to do. 

And he was certain that his Star Dragon companion would want to help him try to find Gallifrey once more.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack did take care of Gallifrey Falls No More...in the future, it's hanging in Melinda May's office in the Archives on Hubworld. 
> 
> And apologies to everyone who loves Clara...yeah, I did kinda trade Cadi for her. Some day I might write this entire adaptation, but for now it's on my to-do list. I kinda want to write Cadi's reaction to meeting Ten...


	62. Chapter 62

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How about an extra chapter today?
> 
> Although, this does break from the fuzziness of the last few....

 

**_28 February 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_New Cardiff_ **

**_Earth_ **

****

“Hey, Tad.”

Ianto smiled at Pryce as he stepped up to the counter of the original _Star Teas,_ the shop taking up prime real estate near the Torchwood Plass.

He remembered being a bit bemused by the fact that the Welsh Tourism Board had decided to rename the relocated Roald Dahl Plass after the organisation that had so long been underneath it.  Of course, that had changed when the original city had moved inland to escape the rising ocean levels.  The first Plass was now underwater, the enlarged Cardiff Bay having swamped the area centuries ago.  New Cardiff was practically backed up to the Brecon Beacons now, and the dragon still could recall what they’d found out there, millennia ago, in an isolated village where people kept disappearing. 

Not a very pleasant thought, and not something he really wanted to equate New Cardiff with.

This particular franchise of _Star Teas_ had been the first that Pryce had opened, and it had thrived ever since.  Ianto might have been a little scandalised by a child of his not liking coffee, but he was truly proud of Pryce and of the business she’d built up.

“Is he here yet?” the dragon asked.

Pryce jerked her head toward an isolated table near the back of the shop, nearest the doors leading back into the bakery section.  He turned in that direction, seeing the man who was occupying the table Pryce had indicated.

When Ianto had gotten the call, he’d been surprised, to say the least.  He really hadn’t expected to hear from the man, not after so long.

“Tad.”

He glanced back at Pryce.  She was holding out a cup, and he accepted it, knowing it would be his favourite blend of tea. He might have pretended to be insulted when offered tea, but he did like it.  Just not as well as coffee. “Be gentle.”

“I’m not going to yell or anything.”  Well, he might, depending on what he was about to hear.  “I’m willing to listen to what he has to say.”

“It’s just that I don’t want to have to call the authorities if there’s some sort of fight in the shop.  Yes, my insurance will pay the damages, but I’d rather not have to fill out all that paperwork for a claim.”

“There won’t be a fight.  I promise.”

“Alright, I believe you.”  She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. 

Ianto took his warm cup over to the table…where his son-by-mating, Belen Swann, sat.

None of them had heard from Belen since he’d last been alive; in fact, they’d all wondered why he hadn’t reincarnated as the mates of the Star Dragons seemed to do.  To say he’d been shocked when he’d gotten the call had been an understatement.

He wanted to demand why Belen had stayed away.  Why he hadn’t come back to Sabrina when he’d regained his memories of his previous lives with Ianto’s daughter.  But he couldn’t.  He was certain Belen would tell him, he would just have to patient.

But it should have been Sabrina that Belen was meeting for tea.  And, now it was too late for that.

Belen’s pale eyes wouldn’t meet Ianto’s as he greeted the dragon hesitantly.  “Ianto.”

“Belen.”  Ianto’s own tone was coolly polite, and the man winced at it. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, as if it had built up within him and it had to come out.  “I should have contacted Sabrina, but…” he sighed, his entire body deflating, sadness twisting his handsome, dark features.  “Now it’s too late.”  His unconscious echoing of Ianto’s own thoughts sounded utterly defeated.

“I’d like to know why,” Ianto urged.  “I’d like to understand why you didn’t come back home when your memories returned.”

Belen slumped back in his chair, one hand dropping into his lap while the other curled about his own cup of tea.  “That’s why I contacted you.  Well, one of the reasons.  I…heard about Sabrina.  I…wanted to pay my respects, but I wanted to give you an explanation, since I can’t give it to her.” 

His distress was so palpable, that one of the reasons that Ianto had come up with when he’d gotten the call went right out of the proverbial window: he still loved Sabrina, despite his silence of nearly four decades.  It made it harder to understand, but as he’d told Pryce, he was willing to listen.

Visibly screwing his courage up in both hands, Belen began.  “Two weeks before River brought all those dragon eggs home, Sabrina and I had a fight.  It was…ugly.  I wanted to have children, and she wasn’t ready.  She was too young, she didn’t want to give up Torchwood, we had plenty of time…but I countered with, what if I didn’t remember her after my death?  What if this life was all we had?”

While Ianto could understand Belen’s reasoning for wanting children, it seemed a little defeatist.  After so many reincarnations within and affiliated with the family, there really shouldn’t have been any doubt that he would come back. 

But, really…now that Ianto thought about it, Belen could have been right.  After all, when he hadn’t come back to Sabrina it had been the first assumption they’d all made.  It had bothered Anwyn, as attached as she is to her own mate; Gwaine wasn’t immortal, but he’d reincarnated so many times and had always returned to Anwyn’s side.  That small doubt that Gwaine might, someday, not know her any longer had instilled a quiet fear in his oldest daughter, and it had taken a lot of convincing on Gwaine’s part to relieve that fear.

“Then,” his son-by-mating continued, “those eggs had shown up.  We’d been…distant, at that family gathering, and I honestly thought we could discuss this like adults.  It would have been the perfect opportunity.  She wouldn’t have to leave Torchwood because of any sort of maternity leave, and I could retire and look after a child.  I tried to talk to her about it, and she…” he sighed.  “She walked out.”

Ianto had noticed a coolness between them at the house that night they’d introduced the eggs to the family.  To be honest, he’d seen it coming for a while now, as had Jack, and had wondered if it was too late to heal any sort of breach between them.

It seemed he’d been correct.  But that didn’t make him feel any better about not trying when he’d first seen it.

He should have at least tried to talk to Sabrina, but she’d seemed fine.  Ianto had long been the one to trust his heart, and this was yet another time when that trust had failed. 

It felt as if _he’d_ failed both of them.

“I died still angry at her.  And, when I got my memories back, the first thing I could recall was that anger.  I just…I wanted a cool-off period.  I thought, maybe I could take one lifetime off, and then when the next one came around I could go back to her.  I could hope that I wouldn’t be so mad at her then, if I had a bit of distance.  And now…I’ve lost my chance.”  A tear trickled down his cheek, quickly followed by several more.  “I’ve lost my chance to explain this to her.  Ianto, I…Goddess, what have I done?”

And, with that, Belen Swann broke into wracking sobs, wailing out his pain and loss for the world to see and hear.

Ianto was up out of his chair and around the table, to put his arms around the mourning man, holding him and singing softly to him as Belen cried out his guilt and agony onto the tabletop.  The dragon had to wonder if he’d truly mourned yet, and if this was the first time he’d acknowledged just what he’d lost when the Dragon Slayer had taken his mate’s life.

With that honest display of emotion, Ianto completely forgave Belen Swann for not coming back.  He could understand anger, and fear, and while it wasn’t the best excuse he could certainly understand it.

Ianto held him throughout, letting him cry it out, his own tears falling as well.  He would always miss Sabrina, but he’d gotten vengeance for her, which would have to do. 

His people’s laws allowed for that vengeance, but he could honestly say it really didn’t make him feel all that much better.  It had been a duty to perform, to save the rest of his family from someone who would never have given up stalking them. 

It didn’t make the pain any less.

Eventually, Belen calmed down, and Ianto went over to the counter to fetch some napkins to clean themselves up.  Pryce was standing there, her own face went with tears, and she came around the counter to give her Tad a hug and two clean tea towels.  Not for the first time, Ianto wished that handkerchiefs were still in style; he used to carry them all the time, but now finding one was practically impossible.

Belen thanked him for the towel when the dragon returned to the table.  “Do you…do you think I might see her again someday?” His eyes were filled with hope.

“I…honestly don’t know.”  Ianto couldn’t lie to him.  “But there’s a chance.  A mate bond is very strong.  Perhaps, you might.”  Personally, he’d never heard of dragons reincarnating; but then, it hadn’t been the norm for people to recall past lives either, up until Arthur and Merlin had done just that. 

And, with Sabrina gone, would Belen’s memories fade with his next life?  Ianto couldn’t know for certain.

“I want to.  I want to apologise to her.  I should have come home and done it before.”

“You’re welcome to visit anytime you want.  Sabrina was interred on Pedair Dreigiau.  Please, come and pay your respects.  The family would love to see you.”

Belen seemed unsure.  “I don’t know…”

“Think about it.  Call anytime.  Just let us know.”

“I will,” he sniffled.  “I do want to see where she’s buried.”

Ianto reached across the table and took Belen’s hand.  “Then you should come.  It doesn’t have to be today.  Anytime you’re ready.”

“Alright.”  Belen stood.  “I should be going.  I’ve caused enough of an uproar for today.” He attempted to laugh it off, but it was a pitiful thing. 

“I’m glad you called and explained.  _Sabrina_ would have been glad you did, as well.”

“I’d like to think so.”  He set the towel back on the table.  “I’ll call.”

Ianto smiled up at him in encouragement.  “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Thank you, Ianto.  For coming.” 

Belen walked away and out of the shop.  Ianto watched him go, sighing sadly. That had been a lot more difficult than he’d thought when he’d received the call from Belen asking to meet. 

“Is everything alright, Tad?”

He smiled up at Pryce.  “I think it will be.”

“Good.”

“Do you have any of that cinnamon cake left?”

Pryce laughed.  “I’m sure I can find you a piece.”

“And another cup of this excellent tea?”

“Coming right up.”

 

 


	63. Chapter 63

 

**_1 March 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Struve 2398 A and B_ **

****

Jack looked out of the cockpit window of the _Serpent’s Tooth_ at the binary star system Anwyn was piloting them toward.

The pair of red dwarfs were, fittingly, in the constellation Draco.  Jack had let Anwyn pick their destination, and she’d chosen these two stars because there wasn’t an accompanying inhabited system with them; the only things in orbit about the pair were asteroids no larger than London Island.  It made the system a perfect place for what they intended on doing.

“This look good?” Gwaine asked, from his place in the co-pilot chair.

Jack leaned over his son-by-mating’s seat, eyes on the two small red stars in front of them.  One of them – the largest of the two – was about the exact same colour as Arthur’s scales, while the other, smaller, one was just a little darker, almost the same shade as blood.  Debris from aborted planet building encircled them both in a haphazard looking Oort Cloud, being tugged along by the binary’s gravity well. 

“This is perfect,” he answered, giving his approval to the choice.

“We’ll need to get a little bit closer before we launch the probe,” Anwyn said, taking the ship into a spiral orbit that would bring them into the larger, redder star.  “We don’t want to take the chance of it missing and going into orbit instead.”

“Shields are up,” Gwaine reported, flicking a couple of switches.  “There’s a higher than normal x-ray output from the larger star, so we might want to aim for the smaller one.”

“Good idea,” Jack said.  While he didn’t have a ship of his own, the immortal did know his way around a starfield, and understood the dangers inherent of getting too close to an active x-ray emanation event, even with as good as shielding as Anwyn had on the _Tooth_. 

When Jack had suggested this, Ianto had been all for it as long as he didn’t have to be the one to do the actual deed.  It wasn’t because he was attached; no, it was because the dragon didn’t care all that much for space flight, and preferred to stay home.  Besides, he’d held onto that thing for more years than Jack had been alive – not really, if he counted being buried under Cardiff, but still – and had told his mate that it was time that he wash his hands of it.

In the hold, in an exploratory probe that Leo Fitz had been more than happy to remove all the science equipment from, was the Dragon Killer, along with the dagger that Sir Guy had used to murder Sabrina.

This was the best thing to do with it.  Jack knew that Ianto had considered simply burying it back deep within the Hubworld Archives, but it had served its purpose.  It was time to destroy it.

The major issue with that, was the fact that it had gained more than a little magic in its time.  Being exposed to the Old Cardiff Rift hadn’t done the blade any favours, either.  So, simply destroying it wouldn’t really work.

The knife, while not at the same level of evil semi-sentience that the Dragon Killer held, had Merlin very concerned that being exposed to the sort of magic that had been worked into it – and by a boy who had absolutely no training whatsoever – would have deleterious effects down the road.  He’d been all for getting rid of it as quickly as possible, and the entire science team had agreed. 

So they were disposing of it and the sword within a star, just as they had the Darkhold.

This, though, was a different star.  They had no idea if the evil contained within the Darkhold – which had been impossible to destroy completely – might somehow react to the evil within the Dragon Killer.  Merlin had claimed he didn’t think it was possible, but why take chances?  Shooting the weapons into the heart of a star, where they couldn’t be recovered, was the best option.

Jack had assigned himself with that particular task, wanting nothing more than to have the bloody thing gone for good.  It had been in his mate’s possession for far too long.  It was past time it was gone.

Struve 2398B was getting larger, and Anwyn turned the polarisation down to avoid them all getting blinded.  “We’re coming into range, Dad.”

“Do you want the honour?” Gwaine didn’t even wait for Jack to answer.  He climbed out of the co-pilot’s chair, letting the immortal take his place. 

The smart chair conformed to his body as he settled into Gwaine’s traditional place.  He was grateful that his daughter’s mate had ceded it to him, because he needed to be the one to finally dispose of the Dragon Killer, once and for all.

The second star loomed over them, filling the entire window.  Small pieces of rock and ice floated past, one ricocheting off the ship’s shields with a brilliant blue flash.  Jack’s hand itched to use the control to launch the retrofitted probe, but he kept it still in his lap, waiting for the optimum moment.  They couldn’t risk this going awry.

He took a deep breath in anticipation.  It gained him a swift glance from his daughter, but her attention went back to the controls almost immediately.  Jack couldn’t help the fierce excitement that was growing within him. 

He thought about the times when he’d been the one to convince Ianto to use that damned sword.  Even though they’d been somewhat dire, and the Dragon Killer had been the only solution, Jack wasn’t sure now it had been the best thing to do.  He didn’t want to regret the lives he’d saved, and he couldn’t, but perhaps there would have been another solution?  He’d never really know, now. 

“We’re at the optimum coordinates,” Anwyn told him.  “Anytime you’re ready.”

Goddess, was he ready.

With an almost savage movement, Jack pressed the firing controls.

From somewhere deep within the ship, there was a sudden thump and a streak of light glittered against the darkness of the star.  As Jack watched, the silver probe shot toward the centre of Struve 2398B, to vanish within the glare of the star’s corona.

The Dragon Killer was gone, like its past owner.

Jack’s heart immediately lightened.

“Let’s go home,” he sighed, slumping back in the chair. 

Anwyn grinned, and turned the _Serpent’s Tooth_ toward home.

 

 


	64. Chapter 64

 

**_5 March 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Armstrong Dome_ **

**_The Moon_ **

****

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Detective Shraeger.”

Casey had known the moment Robyn Harkness-Jones had entered the Apolo.  It wasn’t usual for complete strangers to come into what had become the unofficial hang-out for all the cops of the Second – detectives and uniforms alike – plus, Casey had been expecting her and had been on the look-out.

She’d been surprised when she’d gotten the request to meet somewhere.  Casey had suggested the Apolo, since it was closest to the precinct and she’d be able to make lunch.  Walsh had given her a knowing look when she’d mentioned it, which made Casey want to smack him, because she certainly had an inkling as to what Robyn wanted to discuss.

Casey was expecting to be lectured about not messing about with Alyce.

It wasn’t as if they’d actually had time to get together.  In the weeks since the whole mess with HYDRA officially ended – although she knew ImpSec was still hunting down the outliers that had escaped their first nets – she’d hardly had time to see Davis, let alone Alyce.  There’d been her work; Sargent Brown hadn’t been at all happy that she and Walsh had gotten involved with such shenanigans, but then he’d been the one to assign them the Morgan-Jones case in the first place.  He’d had them doing paperwork out the ass ever since, as if he didn’t want to let them out of the precinct out of fear they’d get pulled into some other sort of trouble.

He didn’t know her and Walsh all that well if he thought keeping them off major cases was going to do that.  The pair of them could sniff out trouble while suffering from head colds.

They’d managed to get some alone time on Throneworld, when they’d gone to give evidence at Court.  It had been long enough to get a bit of snogging in, and for Casey to let Alyce know that Davis was intrigued and to come by for dinner, where he’d ask all sorts of personal questions and then give his answer.  Casey was pretty sure it was going to be yes, but she was more than amenable to go through the motions.

Their dinner was for tomorrow night.  So there was no way Robyn’s request had been a coincidence.

“Have a seat,” Casey invited.  “And I think you can call me Casey.  Even if I wasn’t interested in dating your sister, we’ve all been through quite a bit together.” 

That earned her a nod from the solemn dragon. “Then, it’s Robyn.”

“I recommend you don’t eat anything with seafood in it.  It’s not at all fresh, and I don’t care what Walsh says…I can tell the difference.”

“I’ll take that under consideration.”

The waitperson came up to the table, asking about beverages.  Casey got coffee, and Robyn seconded the order. 

Once he was gone, Casey said, “Is this where you warn me away from messing with your sister?”

Robyn’s eyes went wide, and she barked a laugh.  “Alyce is perfectly capable of taking care of herself…which I know you’re fully aware of.”

She had a point.  Casey had yet to meet another woman who could kick ass and take names like Alyce Harkness-Jones, and the detective worked with Allison Beaumont.  “Then what made you decide to call me?”

Robyn opened her mouth, but before anything could come out of it, the coffee arrived.  Casey doctored hers up liberally with cream and whatever generic sweetener was on the table, while Robyn took hers black. 

One sip had the dragon grimacing.  “My Tad would be _appalled_ that someone did this to poor, defenceless, coffee beans.”  At Casey’s questioning expression, she clarified.  “Tad is a coffee snob.  He makes the best cup you could ever drink, and I’m not exaggerating.  You’ll have to get him to make you one, sometime.”

It was gratifying that Robyn was expecting Casey to stick around. 

“Anyway, to the reason I called and requested this get together.”  Robyn leaned forward a little, resting her elbows on the decorative – read, tacky – placemat in front of her place at the table.  “I don’t know how much Alyce explained to you about why she doesn’t have a dragon form.”

“Something about it depending on which one of your fathers carried who, I understand.”

“That’s right.  Well, Alyce was carried by Dad, so she doesn’t have a dragon form yet, but she’s always wanted one.  I offered her mine several times, but she never accepted.”  That last sentence was meant to be a joke, but there was an underlying hesitancy in it that had Casey wondering if there was more to it than that.  “Or, if you were found back in the past and adopted, like me.”

“Now, that’s a story I’d love to hear someday.”  Time travel fascinated her, and when she’d been a child she’d wanted to be a Time Agent…although the Agency had long been shut down.  That wish had lasted for about two weeks before she’d decided to be join the police. 

“I’m sure you will.  But, anyway…Alyce really wants her dragon form.  I mean, I don’t think she’s wanted anything more for as long as I can remember, and we grew up together.  But, if Dad carried you, then you only got one when you found your mate…which hasn’t happened for Alyce yet, and if Tad had any say in the matter it wouldn’t be until Alyce turns a thousand.”

In that moment, it really hit home to her that Casey’s potential new lover would outlive her.  That she and Davis would only be blips in time to Alyce and that, someday, she would forget them.  That sent a pang through her chest, and she barely resisted the urge to rub it away.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy herself while she had the chance.  She didn’t know Alyce all that well yet, but something was telling her that having a relationship with her would be totally worth it.

“Well,” Robyn continued, as if she hadn’t just noticed Casey’s slight wobbly turn, “a couple of weeks ago we figured out that our nephew-by-mating, Merlin, can somehow draw out a dragon form.  Well, he figured it out completely by accident when he touched my niece, Nicole, and she was suddenly a dragon.  Ever since, Alyce has been bugging Merlin to do the same for her, and he’s finally folded like a wet organic bag.  Merlin opened it up to other members of our family, so it’s going to be Alyce, Morgan, and Kaitlyn.  Pryce is still thinking about it. It’s going to be tonight, there’ll be a big family thing since this is a pretty big deal.” 

She looked vaguely uncomfortable, and Casey asked why before she could sensor herself.

To her surprise, Robyn answered, blushing slightly.  “They all think having a dragon form is a big deal.  I… don’t understand it, I suppose.” She looked down into her coffee.  “I don’t much like mine, but I’m getting used to it.”

The detective was touched at Robyn sharing this with her.  “Pardon me for seeming an insensitive idiot, but why?”

The dragon snorted.  “I don’t know why.  Everyone seems to think something happened to me before I could remember it, and it’s affecting me now.  Like a form of PTSD.”

Casey couldn’t imagine hating such an integral part of herself like that. 

“But, my family is very supportive.  Alyce…she and I have always been close, since we’re only a couple of months apart in age, and she’s always telling me how gorgeous my dragon form is.  Skylar, another of my nephews, has really gotten into it too, but he’s not Alyce.  She’s been my rock, and we go everywhere together.  Although…she’s about to go somewhere I can’t.”  Her pale eyes were saddened, and Casey felt a little guilty…for about point five seconds, when it came to her that Robyn only felt like she was losing her best friend, when in fact she wasn’t. 

“You’ll always have your sister,” Casey pointed out.  “She’s just trying something new.  After whatever we might have is over, she’ll still be your sister.”

“I do understand that,” Robyn said, self-deprecatingly, giving Casey half a shy smile.  “And I wouldn’t be any sort of sister if I didn’t want her to be happy.”

See, that was true love, right there.  Wanting someone you care about to be happy no matter what does that for them.  Casey suddenly wanted to get to know Robyn as well; not as a potential lover, although she was beautiful in her own way; she was just a little too tentative for the sort of relationship that Alyce was ready for.  Still, she believed they could be great friends, and Casey would get to work on that immediately. 

“You know you’re welcome anytime,” Casey said, “I mean, not in the actual sex thing, because Alyce would probably not care for that at all…but as long as this thing between us lasts, you’ll have a standing invitation to come by and visit at any time you want.”

The smile Robyn gave her that time was a little brighter.  “Thanks.  But you have to know, if you or Davis hurt Alyce in any way, I reserve the right to announce a Vow of Vengeance against you.”  There was something teasing in her eyes, even if her tone was deadly serious.

“And I’ll go along with that,” Casey assured her.  The last thing she wanted to do was anything to hurt Alyce. 

It seemed as if they had an understanding. 

“Then, I’d like to invite you to the dragon-awakening thing tonight, if you’d be interested.”

Casey was taken aback by that.  “But isn’t it for family only?”

Robyn shrugged.  “There’s nothing to say you can’t come.  You and Davis both, of course.  I wouldn’t leave him out of the invitation.”

“Well,” she was almost speechless.  It had been the last thing she’d expected when Robyn had contacted her.  And, Alyce hadn’t said anything about it, but then they hadn’t talked in a couple of days, both fairly busy; Casey with her job, and Alyce with the clan and with the whole testifying in front of the Imperial Court thing.  Truth be told, there was a very tiny part of her that was hurt that Alyce wasn’t the one doing the asking.

As if she could see what Casey was thinking, Robyn said, “Alyce would have asked you but, to be honest, she’s been buzzing around like a gadfly ever since Merlin said he’d do it.  So, try not to hold it against her for not being the one, alright?  This is something she’s wanted since she was old enough to realise the difference between her and me.”

That was something Casey could understand.  All children had dreams, and Alyce’s was to be a dragon.  It didn’t hurt that she really was one, only without the wings and scales part.

“Think about coming, alright?”  Robyn slid a flimsy across the table. “Time and transmat coordinates.  There will be dinner beforehand, so if you do decide to be there, bring an appetite.  Dragons eat enough for an army, so there’ll be a lot of food available.”

“If I do come, and am able to convince Davis to come along, none of your family are going to try to recruit me for Torchwood, are they?”

Robyn chuckled.  “I can’t promise that.”  Then expression turned smug.  “Talk to your partner.  See if he might want to come.  It’s hilarious that he looks so much like my brother.”

She wasn’t wrong about that!  “I’ll see what I can do.”

“That’s all I can ask.”  Robyn picked up one of the menus, perusing it.  “Let’s get something to eat, and we’ll talk some more.”

Casey found herself suddenly starving, and trying to come up with ways to get both Davis and Walsh to go along with her.

 

 

 


	65. Chapter 65

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, here we are, the final chapter. Thanks to everyone who's read, gives Kudos, or commented. You have all been awesome!
> 
> Next up, we take a little jog farther into the future with "The Onyx Empress", which will start posting Tuesday. The next story is considerably lighter in tone than the last few stories have been. :)

 

**_5 March 5193 (Earth Standard Date)_ **

**_Ddraig Llyn_ **

****

There was an atmosphere of joy over the valley as Merlin headed up the path that led toward the stone called the Dragon’s Seat, laughter echoing over the placid water as his family played and flew above the usually quiet valley.  He couldn’t help but grin at the sound, happy to hear it after everything the family had been through in the last month, celebration in the face of HYDRA’s fall.

It had been easy to call out the dragon forms of the family who hadn’t had them yet.  When he’d done it to Nicole, it had been sheer accident, but performing the call on purpose had proven to be fairly simple.  He stopped to look out over the lake, picking out the four newest dragons among the older ones, who were helping them to get used to flying.  His Aunts Alyce, Kaitlyn, and Pryce had become more like most of the family: Aunt Kaitlyn the same blue-grey as Granddad Jack; Aunt Pryce shading toward aqua; and Aunt Alyce all in shades of brilliant green.  Aunt Morgan, though, had proved to be a changeling like Aunt Emlyn and Uncle Clint had been: her scales were like the finest opals, white except for tiny flecks of different colours deep within, and she practically glittered like a rainbow as Uncle Clint called out encouragement to her, daring her to race him to Pedair Dreigiau and back and Aunt Morgan using some extremely child unfriendly language right back at him.  Uncle Clint just laughed and asked her to watch what she said around his daughter, although Daisy wasn’t that close by.

Even Aunt Robyn was in her dragon form today, and was fluttering around Aunt Alyce like a golden hummingbird, ready to catch her sister if she dropped.  Their scales complimented each other, just as their personalities did, and Merlin was glad that Aunt Robyn had accepted that her favourite sister had chosen to take two lovers and spend more time on the Moon. 

In fact, Aunt Robyn had invited Casey Shraeger and her current lover, Davis Nixon, to the dinner and the subsequent changing.  Jason Walsh had tagged along as well, bringing his own girlfriend, Allison Beaumont.  There had been a friendly competition between Granddad Jack and Uncle Phillip as to which one would convince the pair of coppers to join Torchwood, but so far both Casey and Jason had stood firm on staying with the police.  Merlin had a feeling it wouldn’t be very easy to get them to agree, and he noticed Casey and Davis standing in the knot of mortal mates, family friends, and Aunt Anwyn, who was still in her human form for the time being.  The wizard knew it would be only a matter of time before she would be joining the rest of the family in flight. 

Even Skylar was out and about, Uncle Phillip beside him with little Daisy busily crawling over both.  He’d been allowed to change into his human form just long enough to get outside, and then he’d gotten back his scales and laid down underneath a tree, watching somewhat enviously as the family was able to fly.  According to Uncle Gareth, it would be about another week before he was willing to clear Skylar to fly, but he should be able to take on his human form for longer periods of time starting in a few more days.  Then, Uncles Phillip and Clint were taking their family to Asgard, of all places, and apparently Prince Joshua was going with them.  Merlin knew they’d asked Aunt Lisa as well, but he didn’t know if she’d decided yet. 

As he stood there, a friendly shout came from just beyond the main path that led between the houses of Ddraig Llyn.  He turned, and saw Aunt Rowena with her head hanging out one of the upper level windows of the house she and Uncle Henry and their family had taken, and it had been her who’d called out to her mate. 

Uncle Henry was up on the roof of the house, his legs dangling over the eaves just above Aunt Rowena’s head.  He was laughing as Aunt Rowena taunted him about being up there, and Merlin could just hear her chiding him about sliding off.  Not that Uncle Henry wouldn’t come back if he did, and he was close enough to the lake that he’d just resurrect there; but she was like Grandtad Ianto in that respect, hating when Uncle Henry died.  Although it was always hilarious that Uncle Henry came back to life naked.

There was a loud splash, and Granddad Jack’s dragon head rose above the water of the lake, shaking the water away like he was a large, scaly dog.  Hovering above him, Nathan was laughing so hard Merlin was afraid he’d soon join their grandfather in the water.  Nicole was with her twin, although her hovering was more bouncing than anything else, and Carys was trying to show her how to do it right, except that Nicole’s giggling was throwing off her hovering even more. 

From higher overhead, Grandtad Ianto was looking decidedly smug as he did his own best to hover, so Merlin figured he had something to do with Granddad Jack’s impromptu dunking. Which didn’t surprise him in the least.

And then, his eyes picked out the familiar form of his own mate.  Arthur was also on the shore, curled up like a gigantic red cat, and he was chatting with Jason Walsh.  The two of them had hit it off almost immediately, bonding over notions of law enforcement and sports, and Merlin just knew that Arthur had found a new friend.  Yes, it was still a little odd that Jason looked so much like their uncle, but he could get used to it.

The only ones missing were Aunt Cadi and Merlin’s Dad.  Merlin had known that the Doctor wouldn’t be able to stay in one place for too long, and Aunt Cadi would look after him.  Honestly, the wizard thought that her travelling with his Dad could only be a good thing for both of them.  Hopefully, they’d come home sooner rather than later.  Merlin had found that he liked having his father around.  Plus, his Mum had stayed, and from what River had said she was planning on it being a while before she left again.  He certainly hoped so.

There was one more missing, and that was Aunt Lisa.  But he knew where she was.

He started back up the path, and once around a small bend he could make out his Aunt Lisa’s black shape, filigreed with gold, as she sat on the rock that his Grandtad Ianto had once claimed as his own, when he was the Last and had been alone among the humans that had taken him in and protected him.  Now, though, the songs of mourning Ianto would sing had been replaced by joy, and the wizard couldn’t help but be glad that things had turned out the way they had.

Of course, they’d lost Aunt Sabrina.  But that was life: full of gains and losses, each one of them sweet in their own way.  They now had four new children on the way, and while those babies would never replace Aunt Sabrina, it meant that they’d certainly gained more than they’d lost.  Which, in anyone’s books, was a good thing.

To Merlin’s surprise, Aunt Lisa wasn’t alone.

The Air Dragon was with her, wings stirring the crisp breeze, and the two of them seemed to be having a very serious conversation, judging from the expressions on their faces.

 _“Your visions are true seeings,”_ the Air Dragon was saying as Merlin got close enough to overhear.  _“They will always come true, although sometimes not in the fashion you might believe them to.”_

“So what should I do?” Aunt Lisa asked, her own voice sounding a little awestruck.  Which was surprising, given her intense dislike of having magic and her regaining her previous life’s precognitive ability.

_“Let it come to pass.  You will know the path you need to take, when the time is right.”_

Merlin thought he should probably announce his presence, not wanting to eavesdrop if he could avoid it, even though he was bloody curious about what his aunt had seen that had her seeking out the advice of one of the Great Dragons.  “Is this a private conversation, or can anyone join in?”

Both turned to look at him, and the wizard knew then that the Air Dragon had known he was approaching and hadn’t let Aunt Lisa know.  _“You are most welcome, young wizard,”_ she said, as if pleased to see him.

Aunt Lisa nodded in agreement.  “I just wanted to ask the Air Dragon something, but it’s not necessarily a secret, I suppose.  It’s about this planet that the Empress had promised us.”

“Did you have some sort of vision about it?” Merlin asked.  He, personally, was excited about the concept of the clan having their own planet.  As much as he loved Ddraig Llyn, at some point the valley was simply going to be too small for them all.  Plus, right now, the entire family was usually scattered across the Empire, and a part of Merlin was hoping that, if they had their own world to come home to, they would be around more often.  Earth was a backwater where the Empire was concerned, and many of the family had lives that required them to be out in the larger scope of the Human Empire than Earth, and even though they had their own transmat, or knew how to fly various sorts of spaceships, it wasn’t quite the same.

Personally, Merlin had been thinking about moving the School of Magic to whatever new planet they ended up on, if the transfer could be done and the connection that Grandtad Ianto, Aunt Lisa, and the other Earthborn dragons could somehow be rewritten.

“I think it was,” she answered, her eyes softening at the recollection. “It was a beautiful place, with waterfalls and mountains and dragons of every size and colours and types living together.  I think it’s going to take a while to achieve it, but it’s definitely going to happen.”

Merlin couldn’t keep the grin from his face.  “I was hoping we’d be able to work things out.  I can only think this is a good thing for us all.”  Then he frowned.  “But what about the Great Dragons?  Will we find a way to transplant them, as well?”

The Air Dragon laughed.  _“Worry not, young wizard.  You and our children will not leave us behind.”_

He still thought it was so weird that the Great Dragon called him ‘young’, since he was anything but; however, he supposed compared to millions – if not billions – of years old spiritual beings he was just a child.  “Do you have any idea how?” He’d been thinking about it, and at this moment he had to admit he was stumped.  Such a connection to a particular planet was very strong, and would be very difficult to break without causing a lot of pain.

 _“We have a plan.”_ The Air Dragon gained a mysteriously smug expression on her face, and Merlin knew it would be like pulling teeth to get anything out of her. 

Instead, he leaned against the rock that his Aunt Lisa was perched upon.  “So, tell me more about this vision you had about our new home…”

Aunt Lisa, laughing, capitulated to his request, and told him of the wonders she’d seen. 

 

_Fin_

 

 


End file.
